


Masquerade

by wellthizizdeprezzing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/F, Mystery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-06-28 08:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15703854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellthizizdeprezzing/pseuds/wellthizizdeprezzing
Summary: When Hermione wakes up she finds herself in an unsettling situation. Intent on finding out the answers no one is willing to provide, she stumbles across a mysterious masked figure. Will this stranger give her the key to what she seeks or will they only lead her further down the rabbit hole she has fallen into? Put on the mask and embrace the lies.





	1. A Symphony of Pain and Suffering

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This chapter is a prelude, or prologue to the story so apologizes if it is a bit short and vague but I cannot reveal too much without spoiling the secrets of the story. That was the whole reason why I named this fic Masquerade after all. The story revolves around secrets and on hiding them, and on living with them and forgetting them. And what better way to represent the physical manifestation of a secret than with a mask? I also kinda love masquerade ball scenes as I find them fancy and cool as hell. If I had money to throw one I would. As it is I can only write about one And you can bet there will be a masquerade scene in this if I get my way.

* * *

_During times of war, hatred becomes quite respectable even though it has to masquerade often under the guise of patriotism- Howard Thurman_

* * *

War.

The very word sent a chill down ones back and horrid images of death and dying, and blood and bleeding into one's minds eye.

War.

That which humanity supposedly despised but which they readily used to reek havoc upon one another without so much as batting their eye. For centuries man indulged in the crude acts of senseless slaughter, in using their barbaric methods of killing to take over enemy lands in battles fought for glory, gold or god. Each side thought they were right, that their way of seeing the world was the only right way that it could ever be perceived. And as time went on and their weapons and methods advanced, their way of thinking did not. Nations rose and fell and each new one that came from their ashes claimed to be better than their predecessors; to be more humane towards other less fortunate countries. Yet when the facade dropped it turned out that they were more cruel than others before, their new weapons of mass destruction tearing and ripping this world apart, degrading the human soul even more. Each generation however, held the hope that something would change. That one day there would be no need for wars among humans; that they could live in peace and harmony whilst sharing all manners of different ideals.

This was a foolish belief.

For no matter how intelligent humanity claims to be, no matter how fine the clothes they wear, how gourmet the food they eat and how they strive to learn themselves on various worldly matters, the fact remains that humans are animals too. And animals all fall in line to Mother Natures whims, whims and desires that cannot be fully ignored or gotten rid of no matter how deep they are buried.

And it was because of humanities failed attempts to reinvent themselves to be better each time a new generation rose, that the wizarding world found them laughable and anserine.

"Stupid muggles," they would sneer as they sat in high castles protected with various wards, sipping their expensive elixirs. "Look at them covered in filth and mud, look at them cry at the ruination of their own nation, one they caused themselves. How silly. How pathetic." It was this contempt at the humans that bred witches and wizards sense of importance, of their sense in being more privileged and fit to walk this planet than them. The wizards, once close to humanity as the very first magic users had very well come from humans, left them behind, secluding themselves in ivory towers and in communities hidden from muggle eyes.

The magic users grew increasingly more and more close knit to one another, hating and picking on the muggles as well as muggle born witches, who they had taken to dubbing as mudbloods, because of the way they wallowed in the own filth of their destruction. These witches and wizards who thought they were above humans began to marry within one another, fearing to lower themselves by marrying a mudblood and thus defaming the family. Blood purity above all they would swear and it was something they took seriously, going so far as to exile those from the family line that did not follow this motto, one that all true pure blooded wizard families took to heart and to mind.

But not all wizards were like this. Some still liked to remember where they had come from, that their roots lay with those mud dwellers, and that instead of sneering at them, they should pity them and help them out. The humans were less fortunate then them and it wasn't their fault they were stuck brandishing over sized knives at each other for safety instead of harnessing wondrous magic.  _These_ were the wizards who were labeled as blood traitors by the pure ones, because it was  _these_  wizards that were sympathetic to the plight of humans and that often helped them out or even started families with them. The pure bloods were upset by this but they did not wage war against the blood traitors. No, war was beneath them. And if the rabble wanted to lay with the filth it was none of their concern as long as they stayed away from the pure families.

But tensions only rose between the two wizarding groups and things were only made worse when now Muggle born witches were being let into the community, a community that had been previously closed off and now opened up by political leaders in order to be more inclusive of all magical beings. These muggle born beings were the worst of the worst, practically Muggles themselves. And there was so many of them, their numbers rising tremendously ever since the gates to the community had been opened. The pure bloods feared on what to do. If this pattern continued they would eventually be overpowered and outnumbered and would lose all the sway they had with the government; their monopolies would fall.

To their luck, but to the soon to be horror of everyone else, a man rose out of the ranks of wizards. A man with a mission to destroy all such half bloods and blood traitors and mudbloods. A mission to reinstate blood purity among the royalty. The pure bloods stuck to his side like gum to a shoe. They followed his beliefs blindly and soon the first wizarding war erupted. The very tactics that pure bloods had laughed down their noses at in the human world they employed easily in the magic world. The man had convinced them there was nothing wrong with using filthy mudblood techniques on those who protected them.

"If they protect filth then they should expect filth to be thrown at them," he had rationalized. His words held a great sway over the minds of his followers and they charged ahead, committing horrible crimes left and right.

They were practically unstoppable under the wave of terror he had brought and the government was powerless to stop him, too corrupted to work together properly. But not all things last forever and this man's reign was cut short when a curse he used backfired and left him dead. All his followers were lost without him and easily captured, carted off into a prison that held only the most heinous of the wizarding world. There they sat and rot, bodies nearly resembling corpses as they did their time.

The wizarding community celebrated the evil wizard's death but not all, and it was those few who were morose that mourned the lord but not for long, for they knew he would return one day to finish what he had started. And they were right, because just a mere fourteen years after he had been proclaimed dead he rose again more powerful than before and built up his forces once more, till steadily they were a power to be reckoned with. What he did not expect was that a hero had risen, or three heroes to be exact. There was the brains of the group, who formed plans to thwart him, there was the bold, who despite his lack in skills fought bravely by his friends side offering whatever assistance he could, and there was the brawn, the boy who lived and who dared to take on the evil lord head on. They were dubbed the Golden Trio.

The evil lord had his own special forces to combat the armies of good who vastly outnumbered his. But where he lacked in number he made up for with skill. Death Eaters, he called them. Loyal to a fault and well versed in unforgivable curses. Two among them stood above the rest. One was a man who had claimed to be working for the good side but was in actuality as doubled tongued as the monster he swore his true allegiance to. All the valuable information he had brokered on the warriors of good proved to be an invaluable asset to his lord. And then there was the female Death Eater, whose crazed devotion to her lord was backed by the readiness to use her immense magical prowess to make those who opposed him suffer.

Mighty battles were held as good fought evil and as evil fought good. Both sides took heavy casualties and dealt out heavy casualties. Cities were moved, forests were changed and tides were disrupted as the battle spilled over to the human world. The warriors of good only wanted a wizarding world where blood purity did not dictate everything, where witches and wizards could live together as one. The forces of evil wanted none of that, believing the good sides ideas of having everyone living together in equality the same stupid ideology that humans strove for but never achieved.

And so the wars would be waged on. Countless important people to the Golden Trio fell, lost to death's hungry clutches. All they could do was shed tears for those close to them, commit them to memory and press on, not resting till the evil lord finally fell. And at last an opportunity came, one that would forever change the tide of the war. Both armies had gathered at a school, a place with a lot of history to the evil lord and to the boy who lived. Black and white and gray swirled together as bursts of red followed after muttered spells and splattered on the floor as useless wands clattered to the ground, rolling to join their equally as useless owners.

It was at this battle that many important decisions were made, that destinies were fulfilled. Things changed for everyone there, but not necessarily in the right way or in the way anyone would have predicted.

War.

A simple word yet it held so much devastation to it.

War.

No longer a thing of only human creation.

War.

It determined who deserved to live and who didn't; it judged all harshly.

War.

Voldemort's war.

And now  _her_  war, as she fought for that which she didn't know she was fighting for.


	2. The Place of No Faces

* * *

_And After All What is a Lie?_

_Tis The Truth but in a Masquerade -Alexander Pope_

* * *

 

When Hermione first awoke she was aware that something was different. She was in a darkly lit room, the torches hung on the wall blowing in the breeze of an open window. Her back was on the silky purple satin sheets of her four poster bed and as she sat up, a confused look on her face, her clothes crinkled around her. She was wearing a beautiful white lace gown, with a high neck and long sleeves and blue delicate gems woven carefully into the fabric. Her toes peeped out of open toe pumps, and were painted a clear color that matched the color of her nails.

Hermione got up from her bed, glancing and admiring the strange clothes on her body as well as her strange surroundings. The room she was in was pretty, with fancy wallpaper with even fancier designs scrawling across it, and furniture that looked very old and expensive. The antique looking full length mirror in her room looked about to be the most expensive of all the items. What Hermione could only guess as rubies, emeralds and white diamond, were inlaid in the ornate baroque frame. She walked over to the mirror, her shoes muffled on the thick carpet and limbs a bit unsteady, her fingers coming up to trail closely to the walls in case she needed to lean on them for support. Her body felt like it had just emerged from long slumber, a stranger to itself and she wondered why as a huge yawn seized her, making her eyes water as she let it out. With it a lot of her grogginess left and she was able to move more steadily and confidently. And with it, her mind awakened and began to hungrily question her current position in this room. Whose room was it? Was it hers? It really looked so pretty. She was sure everything had to be made from top quality material.

Throwing away her wonder at being in such an expensive room, she tried to quell feelings of anxiety that suddenly surfaced in her the more she thought about her current predicament. Something felt very wrong about this whole situation. It felt like her body didn't belong to her, like she didn't belong here in this place, and she needed to look in the mirror to determine if the same girl stared back at her. Sucking in a deep breath she peered into the shiny glass. A fairly attractive girl in her older teens stared back at her, her childish and young face baffled under a pair of brown eyebrows and a head of brown bushy hair. She let her hands travel to her cheeks and she pulled on them experimentally, hazel eyes wide in wonder as her skin snapped back when she let go. So it was her, but it didn't feel like her...Hermione backed away from the mirror, having grown unconsciously closer as she had pinched and prodded the skin of her face in search of answers that she wouldn't receive.

What was going on? Hermione had a vague recollection that she shouldn't be wearing such a dress, that such clothes did not benefit her. Yet, here she was wearing a white dress that was so elegant and regal she felt as if a queen might wear it. Except it was on Hermione's body, and she was pretty sure she wasn't a queen. And this room...Hermione was pretty sure she shouldn't be in it, but yet she was and from the looks of it she had fallen asleep here. What was going on? Her skin crawled with unease that she just couldn't place a finger on.

There was a loud knock on the door that startled her out of her thoughts and she raced over to the heavy mahogany door. Maybe someone outside could offer her some reassurance in explaining why she felt such a way. But when she pulled the door open all she saw was an empty hallway. She peered her head out cautiously and looked up and down the hall but no one was there. All she saw was royal purple carpet, torches burning brightly, and walls with doors stretching down as far as the eye could see in either direction. Was she in a hotel of some sort? Was that why she felt like she had woken up in a room that wasn't hers?

She was about to close the door again when something white on the floor caught her attention. She picked it up and gave the hallway another glance. Had this been here before or had it recently been left? It was a white mask, light weight and beautifully made with white plume and blue dots of periwinkle that glimmered near the eyes. It matched her dress perfectly. She turned it over, wondering if she was meant to wear it and noticed the note on the inside of the mask. She pulled it open, cursive handwriting greeting her.

_Wear me_

_Okay_...Hermione shrugged and put it on, not knowing why she was instructed to do so. The mask fit snugly on her face like it had been made specifically for her. Immediately she felt a sort of ease fall over her, like a drug. Under this mask she was safe, no one could see who she was and harm her. She was invincible, she could do as she pleased. Hermione liked the new sense of strength that came from the mask but worried about it at the same time. How would the act of wearing such a mask make her feel this way? Was it-?

Music drifted into her ear drums, throwing her thoughts to a stop. The melody was soft and mystical, beckoning for Hermione to follow it with seductive fingers. Hermione gave one glance behind her to double check her room for something, her hand twitching reflexively for an object she didn't have but that she felt had made her safer when she had it (was it a twig? She felt like the object was long and wooden but how would a twig make her safer?). Seeing that this object was not anywhere in her sight of the room she closed the door behind her and memorized the number on her door. It read 9 ¾. What a odd number for a room.

She walked down the hall, resisting the urge to run towards the source of the melody, her long dress trailing after her. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever and when she had just about decided to perhaps give up and turn back to her room she saw it slanted towards the left, an end finally. The music gradually got louder as she rounded a corner and suddenly found herself looking into an elevator. The doors were open, lights on as if waiting in greeting for her. She stepped in and the gates shut around her, bringing her lower into the underbelly of whatever building she was in and closer to the music.

When the gates opened again she stepped out, this floor decidedly darker. A man stood in front of her, a velvet rope separating her and the door from which she knew the music came from. The melody had only become more intoxicating and intriguing and Hermione had to know and see the place it was coming from.

The man glanced impassively at her as she stared apprehensively back at him. The elevator dinged as it went back up, leaving the little area they were in almost completely dark without its light. There was a long moment of silence as Hermione battled with what she should say to the man for him to let her in, and before she could open her mouth he moved out of the way, pulling the rope aside with him. This was all Hermione needed to know she had been let in and with a deep breath of excitement and anticipation she pushed open the door to the place.

She found herself in a night club of sorts, complete with neon red lights on the brick walls and a stage on which a jazz band played, ignorant of the patrons in the club, and caught up in their own world. There were small tables set up everywhere with small candles on them, red chairs containing people who were either chatting or drinking with one another. Some people were standing up and talking and a few were swaying from side to side on a small wooden platform designated for dance.

Each person was dressed to the nines, the men in tuxedos, the women in dresses that rivaled Hermione's own in beauty. But all of the clothes were either all black, all white or some strange gray color, with mild touches of another color. And each person wore a mask. Hermione touched her own mask, wondering why all the patrons of this night club had to wear masks and a specific scheme color. Was it a special occasion of some sort and if so, why couldn't she remember any details about how she got here? Hermione's head throbbed as a sudden sharp pain ran through it. She grabbed it, hissing as the pain subsided as quickly as it came.  _What was that?_

"Would the young miss like a drink?" a voice called out to her invitingly across the din of the club and Hermione saw the bartender was looking at her, a wide grin only visible on his face, the rest covered by a red mask that matched his vest.

"I suppose," Hermione answered. Did she like to drink? She didn't know, but suddenly it seemed very important she get a drink. She strode over to the man, taking a seat on the bar stool in front of him. She was the only one at the bar right now, all the man's attention on her.

"What can I get you?" the man asked, wiping down a beer glass.

"A butterbeer," Hermione answered without hesitation and the man smiled even wider if possible. "Sure thing." As he set to work, Hermione drummed her fingers on the counter, watching as he smoothly filled her glass to the brim. Once he set it in front of her, her throat begged for her to drink but she ignored it when she realized something with a small start.

"I don't have any money. I can't play for this." She placed her hands against the counter edge, ready to push away when the man chuckled. "It's alright. You don't have to pay for this. It's on the house."

"Really?" Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes."

"And whose-how am I-?" Hermione fumbled with the question she meant to ask but the man reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "You must be new here, but don't worry. It's fine. You don't have to stress about a thing. Just relax. Eat, drink, and play to your hearts content."

The bartenders words were honeyed and sweet and Hermione felt urged to follow them, to just down the beer in one gulp and forget her troubles, but she shook away the compliance that fell over her like a blanket. Something wasn't right. Why would she be in a place like this? Did such a place even exist? Not in her world.

Her world. The words echoed in her mind, chilled her body and made her mouth sour. What did she mean by  _her_  world? Was this place not her world? Another stab of pain hit her head and she grunted out, this one stronger than the last.

The bartender, whose hand was still on her shoulder, squeezed. "Don't think too much about it or it will make your head hurt. Just go with the flow."

Hermione shook her head, willing away the pain and discarding the man's suggestions. She wanted answers to the multitude of questions that ate up at her.

"Why does everyone wear a mask here? Is this a special organization or something?"

The man was quiet for a bit before he released her shoulder and went back to wiping glasses clean. "You're quite the curious one aren't you?"

"I need to know," Hermione insisted as she leaned forwards in her seat. "I need to know why I'm here."

"Don't we all want to know what we're here for," the man chuckled, a sound without glee. "I'm telling you, do not think too harshly about this. Just relax and wait your turn."

"My turn?" Hermione asked, feeling unease crawl up and down her spine.

"Yes, your turn."

"My turn with what?" This man was beginning to piss her off. She needed answers, damn it!

He looked up at her, his eyes hard and all humor gone from his face. He paused in wiping his glass and set it down extra hard on the counter in front of her. "You'll find out when you wait your turn." His tone of voice brokered no more talk and Hermione bit her lip with outward anxiety. Seeing she was quiet now, he turned his back on her and went to searching for something on the shelves of liquor there. With a sniff of disdain at his rude dismissal of her, she took her drink and moved to one of the tables to be by herself as she thought. She sat down with a plop on the comfy red chair and nursed her butterbeer, angrily contemplating what it was that was going on. Maybe one of the people here would know?

Setting her nearly finished glass down she stood up and approached one of the men there, who was sitting at a table by himself, nodding his head in time to the music. The song had changed but Hermione had no desire to give into the alluring melody like she had before. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Excuse me sir, may I speak a moment with you?" she asked, her voice a bit nervous. The man glanced up at her and smiled after a moment of hesitation. "Of course. What is it you wish to speak of?"

"I only wish to know more about this fine establishment," Hermione said when the man gestured for her to sit down. His silver mask glowed in the candle light, and Hermione was drawn to a ring on his finger when he raised a glass of whiskey up to his lips to finish it before he answered her. Another question ran through her head.

"Where did you get that ring?" she asked, perplexed that there was a nagging sensation at the back of her mind at the sight of a snake engraved on the silver jewelry. It symbolized something to her, but what?

The man looked down at it. "I don't know," he frowned, genuinely upset. "It's just always been there." He looked to be deep in thought but suddenly gave up on it, figuring it was best to ignore it. "Was that what you wanted to ask me?"

"No, just about this place." She spread out her hands to indicate what she was talking about.

"Oh, yes, well it's a night club," he said off handily, like this should be obvious.

"And?" Hermione had already gathered as much, but she needed more. She was certain there was more than met the eye here and the conversation with the bar tender had only agitated in her the uneasy feelings she had had when she first woke up in this place.

"And everyone comes here to drink, eat and dance the night away in fair company." He smirked at her at this, repeating pretty much what the bar tender had instructed Hermione to do. "Are you in need of company?" Hermione shivered as his eyes roamed her body hungrily. Thank goodness she was wearing an outfit that covered nearly all her skin so she didn't have to feel as exposed.

"No. I do not need company of men only of words. What more can you tell me about this place? What do people do once they are not in the night club? Where do they go? Do they go back and sleep in the hotel rooms? Do they live here? Can they leave?" The brunette genuinely wanted to know, as now that she thought about it she had no recollection of ever going to sleep in a room here, or leaving the building, or even arriving here in the first place.

"Stop! Stop!" the man screamed out in sudden panic as Hermione rattled off her questions. The outburst cut her short and she watched as the man bolted out of his seat, grabbing his head. "Stop! Make her stop it!" All music in the club had stopped as did the chatter. People turned to look at the man, who was backing away from Hermione as if she was fire, bumping into other tables and people in his attempt to leave.

What was going on?

What was going on with this mans reaction? Hermione had merely asked a series of practical questions, things that he ought to have been able to answer yet he had freaked out this badly.

Two women, workers of this night club, as they were clad in t-shirts with the clubs name on the back- The In-Between- grabbed the man by one arm each and dragged him out, still screaming. Once he disappeared past a set of double doors that Hermione had no idea where they lead to, another club worked appeared in front of her. He didn't look as kind as the two woman had been. He folded his muscular arms in front of his chest and glared down at her. "You're coming with me," he insisted and Hermione hastily got up. She knew there was no point in arguing against him.

As she left she felt all the patrons disapproving eyes on her, but specifically one pair of eyes in particular whose gaze felt different; curious and brimming of some unspoken emotion. Hermione turned her head to try to pinpoint the direction of where those eyes came from; they burned into her back like a branding iron did to skin and she needed to know who it was. There, she spotted them from the darkest corner of the club. The figure was clad in darkness, impossible to make heads or tails of except for the gold mask rimming their face under the heavy hood of the dark cloak they wore. She knew it was them and even though she couldn't see their eyes from this far, the tilt of the head indicated the figures attention was all on her. But why?

"Hurry up," the security guard grunted and Hermione's head snapped up to glare at him. He had grabbed her wrist painfully and was tugging her forwards because she had slowed down in her walk. She pulled her wrist free of his massive hand and rubbed it where it was sore. "I can walk just fine by myself."

He shot her a look but didn't say anything. Hermione turned her attention back to the figure to get one more glance but found they were gone, as quickly disappearing as they had arrived.

She felt disappointment well up inside her but didn't know why.

They took the elevator back up, the guard escorting her back to her room. "Make sure you don't start trouble like that again, you hear? It's best to forget. You'll need it where you're going." With those cryptic words he left her and Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. What was going on in this place? His words did not dissuade her, instead it only made her want to find out what was going on in this place more and by Merlin she would find out. No one was going to stop her, her craving for information to fill in the gaps in her head hot inside her. She opened the door to her room and as soon as she stepped past the threshold, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell to the floor unconscious.


	3. Spiraling Inferno

* * *

_They yearn for what they fear for-Dante_

* * *

 

Hermione awoke in a bit of a disarray, flat on her back on her bed.  _What happened?_ Was the first thought that ran through her head. She had the distinct impression she had fallen unconscious onto the floor yesterday and her head throbbed were she recalled hitting it on her way to the ground but she couldn't be certain. Had she fainted upon arrival in her room? Had the guard done something?

She lay silent for a while, rubbing at the hurt flesh soothingly as she tried to grasp her memories from the day before. Something in her ear whispered insistently to her to forget and to give up on trying to remember but she ignored the voice, silencing it and intently focusing on the blurry recollections of yesterday's events. Her efforts were soon met with results and she conjured up the basic idea that she had gotten in trouble last night for asking questions no one would answer. And that she was uneasy about this place, and about how she didn't like how she had no idea how she got here. And had they tempered with her memories or something? It felt like someone had tried to get her to forget what occurred the day prior. But why? What was wrong with asking questions?

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Hermione wondered a bit miffed. Nothing made sense as of right now. Getting up from her bed she noticed her clothes had been changed. It was still an all white outfit with yellow gems stitched in, but now the dress was a bit shorter, exposing a good chunk of her legs. Feeling her head she found she had on a huge white sunhat with a sunflower sticking out if it. How had her clothes changed? Did they do it by themselves or did someone come dress her while she was asleep...she shivered to think of that one being true.

Was it the next day already? Curse this! She had no sense of time in this place and there was no clock anywhere. But there had to be a window. She recalled how the torches in her room moved. The breeze had to come from somewhere.

She hopped out bed and rushed to the wall where there were heavy purple curtains draping the windows. There indeed was a window open, only a small sliver but enough that Hermione could wedge her fingers up to attempt moving it wider. Outside the world looked happy and warm, fields of yellow, pink and purple flowers swaying gently in a breeze as the sun looked down on them. The fields stretched for as far as Hermione could see and appeared to surround the premise of the whole building. She felt a sudden urge to leave this place behind. Could she perhaps leave this place through the window? She seemed to be at a fairly low level, two or three stories up judging from the height of it. If only she could make this window open!

She had been trying to pull it upwards for the past five minutes but it wouldn't move! Was it stuck? She checked the whole length of the frame, tapping on the wood, pushing against the glass but at last she had to give up with a frustrated sigh, her cheeks slightly warm from the exertion of trying to pull the window up with all her might. What in Merlin's name was wrong with this window? She couldn't get it to open. What was she to do?

A knock on her door stopped her contemplation's and she rushed over, hoping to see whoever it was that kept knocking on her doors, yet when she opened it no one was there, only another white mask waiting for her on the floor. She picked it up, admiring the beauty of it. It was different from yesterdays. It was smaller, only covering her eyes and was lacy, with small sunflowers patterned onto it. Another note rested on the inside of the mask and she opened it after she had put the mask on.

_Tea under the tree_

_for a lovely young lady_

_nothing shady_

Hermione let out an amused snort. Nothing shady, huh? Very well she would attend this tea ceremony or whatever it was if only it could offer her more clues on what was going on here. This time she would have to be more low key about it, she didn't want someone to catch on and get kicked out again.

She left her room, wondering where this tea ceremony would even be. Could she take the elevator there? She went in the direction she had yesterday, and upon rounding the corner she found that there was no elevator there but a wide open door leading to a balcony that was longer than it should feasibly be so without it breaking off the side of the building. Narrowing her eyes in confusion, she hesitantly stepped outside, the warm air hitting her body. It was hot enough to be pleasant but not too hot and the sun warmed her skin perfectly. She was glad her clothes for today involved a short dress length even if the sleeves were still long. The men weren't as lucky, all of them dressed in tuxedos, collars up to their chins. They were milling around, talking to one another as all the women sat settled at white tables outside, sipping tea that was being served to them by workers of this hotel, as Hermione had decided to dub this building until she got a better grasp of her situation. All of the women wore sunhats like Hermione and yet again the guests were wearing masks that matched their outfits.

Hermione sat down at an empty seat at one of the partly full tables and no sooner had she gotten comfortable than a waiter approached her and poured her a cup of tea. She accepted it gratefully and was delighted to find it was her favorite, although how she knew it was her favorite as this was her first time drinking tea, she didn't understand and decided that wasn't one of her more pressing concerns that needed to be answered. There were a couple of women chatting at the table Hermione had sat at, all of them nodding their head in acknowledgment of her presence here as they continued their chatter. They were talking about trivial things, such as the weather here. How would Hermione ever get them to talk about what she wanted?

"Is the weather always nice here?" she asked when she spotted a lull in the conversation she could take advantage of.

"Why of course it is," answered a red haired women sharply.

"Rebecca, don't be rude. She's probably a newcomer here," answered a fat women with a pleasant sounding voice. Rebecca only scowled at her.

"What's your name dear?" asked a blonde haired woman who Hermione deduced was the leader of the group of women as all of them paid close attention to what she said and how she moved. When the blonde had turned her attention fully on Hermione the others did the same.

"It's Hermione," Hermione said. She was confident this was her name yet it felt like it lacked something. She didn't have time to dwell on this because the woman was already moving on.

"My name is Druella. And this is Rebecca, Sarah and Misty." She pointed one by one to her friends. "Are you new here, dear?" Whatever did being 'new' mean?

Hermione nodded her head, helping herself to some biscuits that were laid out on the table in front of her. "I have some questions about this place."

"Questions?" Rebecca laughed. "Why concern yourself with such silly things!"

"Yes, just eat, drink and enjoy yourself my dear," the fat woman Sarah said, raising her glass to her mouth in earnest. Hermione merely frowned and put down the biscuit she had already half bitten into. She didn't feel like eating it anymore. Why was everyone here so insistent on eating and not questioning on what was going on? Last time she had spoken to someone they had insisted on the same.

"These are just questions about this place. I'm new here so I'm wondering if there are any rules or something I should follow so I won't get into trouble." Hermione reassured them, hoping to prompt them into answering her.

"Rules?" Misty echoed.

"The only rule _is_  to eat, drink and play, Ms. Hermione," Druella stated, reaching for a scone on the platter of sweets on the middle of the table. Hermione had to fight back to kept the frustrated growl from coming out of her mouth. She already had heard this! When would she hear something new!?

"But, beside that there is one other rule. No trouble making," Sarah waggled her sausage like finger at Hermione. "It's rude to everyone else. People just want to relax and enjoy the peace here as they wait."

"Wait for what?" Hermione leaned closer, feeling like she was getting at something. Sarah looked a bit unnerved by Hermione's interest and exchanged a look with Druella, asking wordlessly for help with what to say.

"Wait for their turn," Druella responded smoothly.

Hermione had to resist the urge to slap all of them, starting with Druella. This was the same thing she had learned yesterday! She was not closer to getting anywhere with this! Were the people here like a broken record or something?

"So all we do is drink our tea and wait? Is that all we do?" Hermione asked, her nostrils flaring as she struggled to contain her anger.

"We do more than just that!" Rebecca snorted.

"Yes, we do more!" Misty echoed.

"We go to shows, we go to parties, we go to swimming lessons, to the movies-we do many things. I can't even remember them all, the days all seem to blur into one," Sarah said fondly, remembering the fun she had had with her friends.

"I bet they do," Hermione mumbled darkly under her breath. "So you get to leave this hotel?" She said this more loudly, hoping that in the very least if she couldn't figure out what was going on this place she could in the very least leave. All she had seen was flower fields from her window and even now past the balcony railing there were more fields as far as the eye could see.

"Oh goodness no!" Sarah laughed pleasantly and the others joined in briefly, amused that Hermione would assume such a thing. "Everything we could ever want is at the hotel. We're never bored while we wait. We have no need to leave!"

Hermione locked her jaw and let out a shaky breath through her nose. So there was nowhere to go to? And how could these people just be so dumb and give into this place and whatever spell it had them under? "And how long have you been waiting for?"

This seemed to stop whatever the women had been about to say next and they turned confused and uncomfortable glances at one another. "How long?" Sarah whispered, choking on her words. Rebecca looked down at her tea and Misty's cup began shaking in her hand, spilling hot liquid onto her lap but she didn't notice. Only Druella looked angry to have that question demanded of her. "Well I never," she said in an offended tone of voice, disgust on her face.

"I don't know," moaned Misty, her hand shaking so much now she let the cup go. It dropped onto her lap and then bounced to the floor where it shattered. "I don't know!" she screamed, suddenly standing up and slapping her hands onto the table top, startling Hermione. Once again Hermione could feel everyone's gaze on her back, all the patrons having stopped in their pleasant talk and turning impassive faces on her. Clouds covered the sun, throwing the balcony into shadows. A cold breeze blew across, moving tissues and scattering them haphazardly. One landed on Hermione's arm and she brushed it away.

"Misty calm down," Druella insisted, getting up from her seat. "You're causing a scene." When the panicked woman did not silence and only screamed more loudly, her hands coming up to her ears and crazed eyes fixed on the table cloth, Druella snapped her gaze to her two other friends who were staring gloomily at their table in contemplation. "Rebecca, Sarah," the two looked up on their names. "Quit this moping around and help get Misty inside. We're leaving," at this she cast a hateful look at Hermione. "This bitch behind." She threw down the napkin she had used to cover her lap onto the table and turned on her heel to leave. Sarah and Rebecca cast Hermione equally hateful looks and grasped Misty by one arm each, dragging her away.

"I don't know how long I've been here! Has it been days, years?" Misty wailed as she was escorted out and back into the hotel. Her vocalizations slowly died out and the brunette gulped deeply, watching her until she disappeared.

Hermione winced, the scene all too reminiscent of what had happened yesterday. What was going on with this place? Every time she asked too many questions of another person they freaked out! This wasn't adding up.

She could still feel the stares of the masked patrons on her and she ducked her head, focusing on her tea, her skin prickling with unease. Then she felt it again, that burning stare from before. She looked up to see across the balcony that a figure clad in black was staring at her, heavy cloak around their shoulders. They were too far away for Hermione to discern their features but she could see the glint of the gold mask, glowing even in no sun, and she was certain that it was them, the same person from last time. She jumped up in her seat wanting to talk to them. They seemed different from the others, untouched by the patrons and spell of this place.

"Wait!" Hermione cried out but the figure had already turned her back and with one smooth motion vaulted off of the balcony. "No!" Hermione cried, running after them and pushing past the unmoving people. She bumped into a few but they did not utter any words or cries of pain, just looked on at her as she moved to the balcony edge, bodies turning to follow her actions silently. Breathless, she peered over the railing expecting- she didn't know what, a corpse? The person standing down there and looking up at her?-but all she saw was nothing but the gentle sway of the flowers several feet below her.

She let out a groan of disappointment and leaned her back on the railing as she cast a glance up to the sky. It was still dark. What was going on with this place? She had no clue except that she knew this mysterious figure was watching her. Would they hold the answers to her issues? Hermione highly doubted that but she had to try. Anything was better than smiling and pretending nothing was wrong like these people here were doing.

Sensing that she was no longer welcome here, Hermione left the tea ceremony, the people still eerily quiet as they watched her go. She rubbed the goosebumps that broke out on her skin. Why were they acting this way, all of them? So weird and unexplained?

She made her way back to her room, wondering if she was going to pass out again upon entrance. Tentatively poking her toe past the threshold, she determined that was a good indicator of telling whether it would happen or not. Remaining conscious she let the rest of her body pass through and found she did not fall to the ground. But what was she going to do now? Would she just sit in her room for the remainder of her time here until her time of 'wait' was over? When would it even be over? She had a feeling it would take a really long time if Misty's cries were any indication.

Should she try the window again and see if she could escape? No, maybe later. A new dress awaited her on her bed sheets, demanding her immediate attention.  _So I get to dress myself this time,_  she thought sarcastically. A note was on top of her yet again white dress, this one more elegant and long, with a slew of necklaces and bracelets to be worn with it. She tore the note open, the cursive letters curling up at her.

_Given your antics it seems you crave a show_

_So we'll give you one_

_What the hell?_  This note seemed ominous. Was whoever that was in charge of this place getting mad at her? Hermione swallowed nervously. She wasn't going to let a simple threat like that stop her. She would go to this show, whatever it was and show them she wouldn't be easily scared away. Turning the note around she found a ticket attached to it on a play to Dante's Inferno. It didn't say when the show was but Hermione wasn't going to wait around. She didn't know how time worked here, (or anything for that matter) but she assumed that the show would be playing shortly as to whatever she got an invitation to always seemed to be happening at the time she got it.

She dressed into her new clothes, finding a matching mask that was simple and missing any ornamentation, along with a pair of binoculars on a stick that would help her watch the show.

She swept out of the room knowing already which way she had to go. It was the same way she had gotten to the night club and to the tea ceremony. The sound of orchestral music also helped to lead her to the right place and rounding the corner she was greeted by the sight of the entrance of a opera hall. There was a line of people waiting to go in, some women and men walking in pairs together to give their tickets over to the men clad in red waiting for them. Hermione settled into the line, wondering if they knew who she was, if they had been there when she had caused Misty to freak out. Were these even the same people? It was impossible to tell with all the outfits and the masks.

"Ticket, madame," the man at the front said, holding out his hand once she got to him. She still felt unease although the mask provided her with protection from them knowing her true identity. The ominous sounding note from before rang in her mind. Would she meet her reckoning here? But they couldn't harm her surely in front of others? Scratch that thought, the people probably wouldn't care, just look on blankly as it occurred.

She should have brought something to protect herself, her hand twitching reflexively. She felt like she was missing something really important but she couldn't tell what.

"You can go in."

She entered the place, taking scope of the surroundings. She couldn't spot any immediate dangers but that didn't mean there weren't any. She followed a group of chattering old men and sat down in the row behind them, near the front of the stage. She'd like it better if she could have a balcony seat but they all looked empty and blocked off and she had to wonder who it would be for. The people quickly settled down into the red theater seats and soon all the lights dimmed, excited and hushed murmuring filling the air as the theater goers eagerly waited for the show to start.

Hermione in the meanwhile thumbed through the pamphlet she had been given by a usher as she had passed by. She gave the program a look and her eyes widened in disbelief.

_Today's showing: Dante's Inferno_

_Tomorrow's showing: Dante's Inferno_

_The Day after Tomorrow: Dante's Inferno_

And this continued on until Hermione's head began to hurt. Did they really play the same show over and over again? This was a minor detail that shouldn't have bothered Hermione but for some inexplicable reason it did and she crumpled up the program in her hands. Was this what her stay here was going to look like? The same thing day in and day out? She didn't think she could deal with that! She bent over and took deep breaths between her legs, trying not to hyperventilate. She had to calm down, she could do this. Lights went on stage and Hermione looked up. The show had begun.

She was antsy at first but as time went on she grew more invested in the play and the trials and tribulations of the characters, eventually forgetting her worries for now. The play was a masterpiece with amazing scenery and acting. And the complexity of the text, which spoke of evil as a contradiction of god's will, of storytelling as a way of immortality, of the giant motif of those who had neither committed to good or bad in their life being forced into chasing a blank banner for the rest of their days, all stuck vividly with the brunette.

When the show ended Hermione stood to her feet to give the actors a standing ovation along with the rest of the audience, but while they had been blindly wrapped up in the play and thought of it as mere entertainment Hermione's mind had been working over time. Why would this hotel show this play over and over again? It acted like it was very important. Which had to mean that it  _was_.

Themes of hell and heaven and how one's actions in life lead to consequences in the afterlife...this was heavy material. While Hermione didn't have the piece to link this to what she was currently facing she was certain she could make something of it sooner or later.

As she waited for the people in her row to clear out before she could go she spotted the glint of gold from her peripheral vision. Snapping her head back she saw them, the black figure from before. They were standing on the now emptied stage, partially hidden by the curtains but Hermione could see them and the way they stared right into her, eyes burrowing into her flesh. Thoughts of leaving the theater fled her head and hastily pushing her way out of her row, mumbling apologizes for those whose toes she trampled on, she rushed up to the stage, the figure having already disappeared. She searched through the curtains, huffing in irritation. Why did they keep disappearing like this?

"Hey you, get down from there!" a man called to get Hermione to get off the stage but the girl ignored him, her eyes finding the gold masked figure standing in the backstage area now, waiting patiently for her. "Hey you, I want to talk to you!" she spat racing after them and they bolted, swerving through the set pieces and people working around them.

"Wait up!" Hermione cried, her dress pulled up in her hands so she wouldn't trip over the length of it as she chased them. People gave angry cries as the two swerved around them knocking one down to their feet, his tools clattered to the ground around him.

The figure lead the way to a darkened stairway and jumped down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Hermione followed after them, cursing the fact that she was wearing heels. Her feet were already throbbing in pain and she felt tempted to rip them off of her feet. But if she paused now she would lose the figure all over again.

They raced through a dark corridor which looked to be a service tunnel, the figure never once slowing down or stumbling. Hermione felt her breath rattle against her chest and her leg muscles screamed at her to slow down. "Hey, wait. I just want to talk to you!" Hermione begged. She didn't know how much longer she could run. The figure stopped on hearing those words, their long black robe coming to a rest as they slowed. Hermione slowed down as well, catching her break and glad they had finally paused. But then she saw the smirk on their lips before they ducked into one of the rooms.

"Fuck this shit," Hermione muttered darkly but followed nevertheless. She peered into the room only to find it had a door leading to another room. The door looked to be locked and the figure from before was gone. Had they gone inside? That was the only reasonable answer. Would she have to chase them again? She decided to catch her breath first before she ventured any further. Once she could breathe more steadily she approached the door and pushed it open, closing her eyes as bright light assaulted them. Once they adjusted she stifled a gasp and dropped to her knees, hiding behind a box that was positioned close to the door.

Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest.

She was in a room full of dead bodies.


	4. Imprisoned by her own Thoughts

 

* * *

_The closing years of life are like the end of a masquerade party, when all the masks drop- Cesare Pavese_

* * *

Hermione tried to steady her breathing, her heart pounding violently in her chest. What was this? What was going on in this room? She peered out from behind the box where she was crouching to take another look-to make sure she hadn't been mistaken in what she saw. But no, she had been right the first time. The room was vast, full of brown boxes pushed up against the walls, and white tables with bodies of people on them. They were pale and unmoving, some still clothed, some still dripping blood onto the floor silently as they lay there. Some were older, some younger, but all were undeniably dead.

What were they doing here? Was this what the hotel did to people who challenged them? Killed them and dumped their body on a cold slab of stone waiting to be what-dissected? Cremated? There were too many questions.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand as she felt a wave of nausea and revulsion go through her. Was this what awaited her if she continued to seek out the truth? Had the mysterious figure led her here because they were working with the hotel and wanted to warn her of this? Still too many questions.

Hermione's head span. She needed to get out of here. Being in such close proximity to dead bodies was unsettling her. She made to get up when the loud slam of a door opening and closing forced her back into her spot. She couldn't risk getting spotted now. She had no desire to join the undead on the slabs of cold stone. A pair of doors at the other end of the room had been used to let two men, clothed in white sterile clothing with blue masks on their faces and matching blue gloves, to come in.

"I swear there's more and more of them everyday. I don't know how we're expected to keep up with labeling and counting all of them with just the two of us here. They need to hire more staff," one of them complained. He was the taller of the two. He pulled out a clipboard and stopped to look over at the body of a young woman. He scribbled something down and then moved onto the next. His friend did the same but in the next row over.

"I know how you feel. The Body Retrieval Staff just keeps dumping them on our hands without consideration for us. We can only handle so much. I don't see what problem they have with keeping the bodies a few extra days to give us time to count and label these up," he replied, his voice tired and angry.

"If only those stupid witches and wizards weren't having their war then there wouldn't be as much work," the taller man commented as he checked off a few more things on his clipboard before peering in closer to stare at the body of a man that was different from the others. His skin was pale to the point of translucence, he was missing a nose and had no head hair. Hermione wondered if that man was even human.

The worker picked up the man's hand, and a long thin piece of wood that had been gripped in his hand rolled out, clattering to the floor. The man sniffed disdainfully at this. "This one probably died before he could even utter out a complete spell." He dropped the arm roughly back down and bent to pick up the fallen stick.

Hermione's mind was reeling with what she had just heard. A war caused by witches and wizards...but those weren't real...such magical beings didn't exist. Yet even as Hermione said this she knew it was wrong. Something deep inside her shouted out a resolute no to the idea of witches and wizard not existing. And that piece of wood that the man, who been labeled as a wizard, had dropped pushed a thought to the front of Hermione's head. It was so close, yet when she tried to grasp it to find out what it was her head throbbed in pain and the memory fled, just out of reach of her mind's fingers. Cursing her inability to recall or retain memories she turned back to focus on the two men still in the room. They had moved further down the rows, closer to Hermione.

"At least the humans aren't throwing a war. We all know we'd be swamped like we were in the 1940s." The shorter of the two chuckled darkly. Again they moved closer to Hermione. She didn't like this. She needed to leave, having heard enough for today. But could she sneak out without them noticing? Perhaps when their backs were turned...

But whatever her plans for escape had been were cut short when through the door that she had entered, a burly security guard came in.

"There you are you little rascal," he grunted, spotting Hermione immediately. How he had known she was here was beyond her but she didn't stop to consider this.

She let out a little squeak of fear and bolted out from her spot, right past the rows of dead bodies. The two men who had been checking the bodies merely looked in disinterest at her as she ran.

"Hey, don't think you can run!" Called the guard out after her but Hermione wasn't going to stop. She ran in the direction of the doors the men had come from before and instantly regretted it when she saw the doors lead to a blank room. Concrete walls stared back at her and Hermione began to pat the walls in panic looking for something, a secret handle or a door she wasn't seeing. It couldn't be that the room was empty. Where had the two men come from then?

"I told you you couldn't run," the guard said as he strode calmly into the room knowing he had her where he wanted her. Hermione turned to face him, wondering if she could slip past his arms and back out the door she came in through. She eyed him, waiting until he got closer to her. She could use his cockiness in believing she was trapped to her advantage. When he lazily outstretched an arm to grasp her shoulder she ducked under it and twirled around his body, running to the doors. She pushed them open expecting to see the room she had just been in, but instead empty space greeted her. Hermione let out a shriek as she backpedaled, trying to stop her body from propelling forwards. Her arms flapped behind her and she balanced on the tips of her toes, her mouth open in fear as the dark empty chute stared back at her, daring and inviting her to fall in. With what seemed like forever, Hermione was able to regain her balance, finally settling onto the flats of her feet with a big sigh of relief. She had almost not made it. Where had the room from before gone?

"Oh, so now you don't want to run?" Hermione had forgotten the guard was still in the room with her during her bid to regain her balance. "Looks like you need a little start. Allow me." Before she could turn to face him she felt a massive hand on her back and was shoved roughly off of her feet.

"AHHHH!" the cries ripped from her throat, echoing around the dark chute. The guard stood at the top watching her descent, the light of the room he was in growing darker and smaller as Hermione fell deeper and deeper until she was at last only in the dark.

She was going to die for her curiosity! She knew she should have never gone to see the show! But as she continued to fall, eventually Hermione stopped screaming. Her throat had tired out. Where was the end of this tunnel? Would she just continue falling for all eternity? For how long had she even fallen anyways?

She could feel her momentum slowing down and eventually she floated down gently to the ground. She was pretty sure this wasn't how gravity worked on falling objects but she wasn't about to be caught complaining. Where even was she? She was still in a dark place and she placed her hands up, trying to feel her surroundings, hoping to brush her fingers on a wall or something. She wandered like a blind person but couldn't feel anything. A bright light interrupted her search. She turned to where it was behind her. It was coming from a door that had opened up wide. She walked towards the light eager to be out of the dark. Her eyes took a moment to adjust and when she could finally see she saw she was in a hallway. This one wasn't as cheery as the one that connected to her room. This one was gray and drab with plain doors lining the sides. Was this a part of the hotel?

Hermione ventured out into the hallway cautiously, absolute quiet greeting her ears. "Hello?" she asked. "Am I supposed to go somewhere?" What was going to happen now?

Silence greeted her.

_I suppose I go forwards from here,_  Hermione mussed to herself. Now that she wasn't going to face her imminent death she felt a bit more secure, secure enough to go and explore. She walked down the hallway, observing for details or clues of some sort. When she reached the end of the hallway right before turning a corridor, she spotted a note on the floor. She tore it open, reading eagerly for what it said.

_You have a date, don't be late_

Hermione arched a brow. A date? A date with who? She pocketed the note and continued down, following the natural path of the curves of the hallway. Soon she began to notice a pattern. Every time the hallways made a turn she would find a note on the floor. She picked them up and read them.

_Ask you may, a date today?_

Then the third one read:

_With whom? Why, step into this room_

As soon as she finished reading the last word, a door to her right creaked open, beckoning her indoors. She peered in, finding nothing out of the ordinary inside. It was a simple room with a bed, toilet and desk, all in white, a small window letting in light into it. Hermione stepped in, standing in the middle of the room.  _Now what?_  There was a singular note on her desk. She ripped it open, wondering if this note would give her some clues to what was going on. Was the mysterious figure leaving them? Were they the ones responsible behind this?

_I think you need to think on your actions_

_You are prone to overreactions_

_Some time here in this room_

_will clear your mind_

_If not, quickly you will find_

_it will be your tomb_

"No!" Hermione cried out in blind panic, hand outstretched as if she could prevent the words written on the paper from coming true. She rushed to the door but it slammed shut before she could reach it. There was no handle to pull on it, to open it up and no amount of pushing, punching, screaming and kicking would get the door to open again. Hermione kept beating at the door for what felt like ages, frustrated sobs escaping her lips. They had trapped her!

At last she gave up when no one came to open the door. She let herself drop to her knees, her hands raw and red as they slide across the unforgiving metal in a prayer to the door to unlock. Hermione sat with a huff on the floor in front of the door, flinging her note angrily away from her. Her throat was hoarse from how much she had screamed for someone to let her out, to open the door. But of course no one would, no matter how much she begged.

What the hell was she to do now?

Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked them angrily away, willing herself to be strong. There was no use in crying. She had been lured into a trap, she knew that much now. And she was certain this was as punishment for acting out the way she had in the hotel. But it wasn't her fault if she wanted answers. She wasn't going to sit around like some mindless idiot and repeat the same actions over and over.

She let herself lay flat on her back on her floor. Staring up at the white of the ceiling she pondered what her next course of action would be. Surely someone had to come and check up on her. Maybe she could slip past them when they came to open her door? But what if no one came? The note had said this room would become her tomb if she failed to think, to think about her actions. But how would whoever sent her here know if she had repented on her actions? For all they knew she could be faking it. Could she even fake it? Get out on good behavior and then continue to snoop around for the truth?

She let out a long sigh. Her earlier panic at being locked up in this room was fading away when she knew that there was no way of her getting free for now and that she should save her strength for later. Instead she let her mind drift back to the dead bodies in the room. Someone had wanted her to see them and she had but why? What help did that offer in solving the mystery of this hotel, if she could even call it that at this point. What hotel had a morgue?

And there was the clue of the twig the wizard had been holding. It had dredged up something in her, but a block had kept the information from coming to the forefront of her mind. Was the hotel purposefully erasing people's memories? It would make sense. It would explain why Hermione had no clue why she was here and why other people acted so compliantly to the orders given to them. The hotel was trying to lull them into a sense of false security. And it had something to do with waiting. But waiting for what? For the war? The two men had mentioned there was a war going on between the witches and wizards, could this be what the hotel guests were here for? They were herded and gathered like sheep until they could be sent out to the war to take their fallen comrades places? Was the hotel in fact a factory for death?

Hermione bit her lip as her mind slowly analyzed, picked apart and put back together the gathered information in her head. This conclusion didn't seem as solid as she liked. She felt she was still missing something very important. She thought back to the show she had seen, Dante's Inferno. It had heavy themes of heaven and hell. Had the people here been shown that everyday so that when they fought they would be prepared for the afterlife after they were destroyed in the war? Yet again, no. The conclusion felt wrong. If the people here were meant for war then there would have been war propaganda, they would have been training to fight not sitting on their arses and drinking tea as they talked about the weather. The hotel was too calm for that. And the workers in the morgue had mentioned witches, wizards and humans. From the looks of it, a magical being needed a twig to operate their magic and no one that Hermione had seen here had one of those.

Hermione's hand twitched, imagining the twig in her hand...no, not twig but w...wane? Was that the word she was looking for? Shaking her head for it didn't fit the image in her mind she went back to brooding. Certainly there had to be a word for what she was looking for. Maybe she'd find it one day.

Hermione drifted of to sleep when the light outside her window darkened. When she awoke she was still where she had fallen asleep by the door. Her note had been cleaned up, replaced by a tray with juice, bread and another note on it there. She reached for the note first, needing to know what it said. Would she be freed shortly?

_Your mind does not waver_

_Freedom will not be yours to savor_

Hermione flung the note aside. Who were they to judge her mindset! If they were trying to break her resolve then they were going about it the wrong way. She'd show them, she'd show them exactly what a Gryffindor was made of!

Gryffindor? What was that? Why had she used that word? Flashes of red and gold danced before her eyes, the symbol of a half lion, half eagle, but what did it all mean? Delving further only gave her pain between the eyes and she dropped the topic. It seemed that whoever had erased her memories hadn't done a good enough job if words like these snuck into her mind. Perhaps with enough time she might even remember more to her past.

And so, determined not to give in to the higher forces controlling her fate, Hermione got ready to wait out her imprisonment.

* * *

That was her ten, twenty days, a year ago maybe even but now... now it was different. She couldn't keep track of the days she had been in here any longer. How long were they planning on leaving her here? Her mind was breaking under the lack of stimuli. She was going to lose her mind if she hadn't already! It was all she could do to keep sane under the heavy monotony of this room.

She had taken to scratching out patterns on the walls with a tack she had found under her bed. She had moved her meager furniture around several times and she had tried unsuccessfully to open the door. She had screamed, called for help, beat at it until her hands and feet were bloody and red, but nothing. Nothing except these mysterious trays of food that appeared and disappeared when she wasn't looking. As if by magic. And those blasted notes, with always the same two lines on them:  _Your mind does not waver/freedom will not be yours to savor._

Even her clothes had changed mysteriously. She no longer wore a dress but a simple white night gown with no mask. Why they had removed her clothes she wasn't sure, but most likely it was to humiliate her. Saying that she didn't deserve the luxury of such nice cloth.

There had been moments when Hermione had been tempted to just give up and adhere to the higher ups demands, but she knew if she did then they would win and she would lose and she couldn't do that. Her pride wouldn't allow her to. Yet she really wanted to leave this room so badly she could taste it. All she wanted was to just go outside and be able to see something new, do something else than sit here and think about how boring her life had gotten. She'd even go to the stupid shows and watch them repeatedly if she could just do anything, something! She craved intellectual stimulus!

She let out a frustrated sob and kicked at her desk, leaving another dent in the side. She had lost her temper a couple times out of frustration and the other times she had willingly raged just for the heck of having something to do. Her mattress had taken the brunt of her ire, spring boxes sticking out and stuffing ripped out. She was about to kick her desk another time when the door to her room swung wide open with a loud creak. She paused in her motions, her mouth gaping in shock as this unexpected turn of events. She craned her neck carefully to see what awaited her and was only confused by the sight that greeted her.

The mysterious figure from before was on the other side. They outstretched a hand towards her, their gold mask reflecting Hermione's cautious face in it. Then they spoke the words Hermione had wished and hoped for, for so, so, so, long.

"I'm here to free you."


	5. An Alliance is Forged

* * *

_Horror is the removal of the masks-Anonymous_

_Any time women come together with a collective intention, its a powerful thing. Whether its sitting down making a quilt, in kitchen preparing a meal, in a club reading the same book, or around the table playing cards or planning a birthday party, when women come together with a collective intention, magic happens- Phylicia Rashad_

* * *

"You're here to free me?" Hermione said slowly and uncertainly, her words dropping like stones in the silence. She didn't know if she could trust this person. Every time she had tried to get close to them they had fled, not to mention the last time she had followed them she had ended up in a room full of dead bodies which led her to her current predicament: being imprisoned for who knows how long in this fucking cell.

The figure nodded their head the same time they said, "yes." Their voice was decidedly feminine but Hermione wasn't going to assign their gender just yet.

"And why?" Hermione questioned. She had longed for her freedom but now that it stared her in the face, should she take it?  _Could_  she take it? She hated the fact she was hesitating but she couldn't fight the feeling.

"Look, I don't have a lot of time to explain. Just take my hand so we can go!" the figure ordered impatiently, hand outstretched to the prisoner.

"And why should I trust you?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, not liking the other figure's almost aggressive insistence. "I don't know anything about you and you always disappear on me when I want to ask you-"

"Because!" The figure burst out, shaking their outreaching hand. They were throwing glances up and down the hallway. "Shit, it's starting." Rushing forwards into the room they grabbed Hermione by the upper arm.

"Hey!" Hermione protested at being grabbed so harshly but the figure paid her cry no mind. Digging into their cloak they brought out a simple white mask. "Quick, put this on before we leave the room."

"Why?" Hermione asked as she thumbed the mask from them. It looked cheap compared to the masks she had worn previously.

"Just please put it on. It's for your own safety." When the figure saw that Hermione hadn't put it on, they pulled it from her hands and tied it around her face themselves. "I'll explain everything once we get out safely," the figure promised when they saw Hermione open her mouth in protest. Then they pushed her roughly towards the door. The hallway was white like Hermione last remembered when she had marched stupidly down these very halls all that time ago, not knowing the trap she was leading herself into.

She could hear sounds coming from down hall and the figure pushed her in the opposite direction. "We must hurry. We have to get to the safe room before they catch up to us."

"Before who catches up to us?" Hermione asked but the figure had moved on ahead of her, leading the way. Hermione pressed her lips together and decided she'd ask the questions later. The sounds from behind here were growing louder, and was that the sound of snarling dogs? Did they had dogs chasing after them? She was about to turn her head to look when the figure grabbed her hand roughly. They had appeared by her side, their lips frowning. "Don't look back," they instructed, "or else we won't be able to leave."

"And why's that?" Hermione was tugged along by the figure, their dark cloak billowing around them as they lead the two of them down to one of the doors on the wall with brisk steps.

"It's part of deal of getting away from this place."

"The deal?"

"Yes. The deal. Look back when leaving from one of these prison cells and you are forever trapped to wander these never ending halls. No one is actually chasing us, it just feels that way. Still we must hasten before someone  _actually_  does show up to chase us when they find you've left the room."

Hermione found this information a bit hard to believe, especially since the sound of snarling dogs, running footsteps and yelling guards, that demanded her to wait and stop running, seemed so real. She just wanted a simple peek, to see if it was-

The figure grabbed her cheek and forced her head forwards sharply. "What did I tell you."

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled in apology, rubbing her sore neck which had been twisted painfully. The figure tapped on the door in a set pattern and soon it swung open. The interior of this room led to another passage. This one dark and made of stone. They stepped in, the figure grabbing Hermione's hand as the door shut behind them, shutting them completely into the dark. "Don't let go of my hand. This is another test."

Another test? What was up with all these test? What were they for? But Hermione held on strongly, determined not to loosen her grip. They walked on, only the sound of their footsteps echoing around them. Hermione wondered what the next test would be when suddenly she felt it: the sensation of thousands of bugs crawling over her skin.

"Agh!" she cried out jumping and trying to wretch her hand free from the strangers but they held on tightly, crushing her fingers in their hold. "Don't let go. Calm down!"

"Get them off, get them off!" Hermione screamed jumping up and down and trying to swat at the bugs. She couldn't feel any on her body but she swore there had to be some with the way her skin crawled and moved.

"Get them OFF!" she felt her throat tighten in panic when she realized all her relentless swatting and slapping were not quelling the procession of insects on her flesh. Oh Merlin, she was going to be eaten alive by insects! She could feel them burrowing into her skin, ripping her flesh with their tiny pincers. "Make it stop, please!" she sobbed as she sank to her knees, now batting weakly at nonexistent bugs with her one free hand as she gave into them.

"Get up. Cut this out! You are stronger and smarter than this I know!" the figure demanded, bending down in front of Hermione, cupping her chin in their free hand. Hermione couldn't see them but sensed their gaze on her, that same piercing gaze as before, filled with confidence in their belief that Hermione could pass the test. "You are strong, you can do this! It's just a test."

"I-I can't do it," Hermione sobbed. "Their all over me. Just carry me the rest of the way."

"I can't do that. You have to walk across yourself or you will be forever stuck in this tunnel with bugs crawling all over you. Do you want that?"

"No!" Hermione's terrified cry rang through the tunnel as the figure's words reached her.

"Exactly," the figure pulled Hermione up to her feet. "You can do this."

Hermione nodded her head mutely. She could do this. Already she had gotten a bit used to the unpleasant feeling on her skin. It surely couldn't be far to the other end, right?

"How come you don't feel it?" Hermione asked as they started walking again. She decided posing questions would help her distract herself from the terrible sensations as they started up again, playing across her skin and making her insides clench in disgust and horror.

"I'm not the one trying to leave the cell. But I promise you I went through the same thing when I first escaped those prisons."

"You escaped?" Hermione muttered out, clenching her teeth as felt the giant pincers of a bug burrow deep into her ear and slither its antenna against the soft matter of her brain.  _Ignore it, ignore it!_

"Yes. And look, now have you." At their words a light grew at the end of the tunnel and soon the two had exited the wretched place behind. The figure let go of Hermione's hand and the girl wiggled her fingers experimentally. The stranger had held them so tightly they had turned purple and only now blood was returning to them accompanied by pins and needles that meant they were reviving. With a quick look over Hermione noted with satisfaction that there were indeed no bugs on her and she was whole and fine. But just to be sure she patted her hands over her body, checking her ear specifically where she had felt that big bug from before. "I made it," she breathed out, happy that the horror was over, even as her skin tingled with the remnants of the disturbing sensation.

"Not quite," the figure grimaced. "Now we have to go back to my safe room because if we don't they will find you and put you back in your cell."

Hermione nodded her head in grim understanding. "Don't worry this part won't be as bad. Just follow my lead." The figure put a finger up to their lips indicating silence and with that the two were off. This part was a bit trickier than scary like the other travel had been. They had to sneak their way past staff members as they traversed down halls and up stairs and into rooms and out of rooms, sometimes retracing their steps, all with such speed that Hermione's head began to spin. She had lost all sense of direction a long time ago and felt like the two of them were walking in circles. Had the figure gotten lost?

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Hermione asked when she had lost her patience.

"Yes," the figure hissed back. "Be patient."

"We've passed by that room already!" Hermione pointed out as they passed the library for the tenth time.

"I am aware of that," the stranger said before shushing her. Hermione let out a grunt of annoyance but remained quiet. At last they made their way to a wall with a statue of a man on a pedestal next to it. Hermione didn't recognize him and wondered why he had giant wings curling around him. Checking him out she had missed what the stranger did next and when she looked over there was now a secret passageway that had opened up behind the statue. The stranger gestured for the brown haired girl to follow. The passage was dimly lit and once they walked in the entrance sealed up behind them. At the end there was a single wooden door. Turning around with flourish the figure gave a half bow in front of the door, a grin on their face.

"Welcome to the safe house or as I like to call it, The Castle." Then without a glance at Hermione, they opened it up. The girl stepped into what she had expected to be a room but looked more like the inside of a castle. "What is this place?" she whispered, astonished as her eyes greedily took in everything. She knew what it was, the question was posed mainly as a statement of astonishment. She was standing in a living room with stone walls decked with tapestries depicting medieval scenes of war or everyday life, a wooden floor covered in rich carpet and with a high wooden rafter ceiling. The room looked very comfy and homey with a plush blue couch, several armchairs, a coffee table and shelves of books against the walls A stair case in the middle of the room lead to the second floor and there was one exit in the room, leading to the kitchen and to whatever else was in the house. A warm fire crackled merrily in a giant hearth and the figure strode up to it, prodding it with a iron to make it jump higher.

"This is where I live," the figure answered simply once they had finished attending to the fire.

"And how did...how did you-" Hermione waved her hands around vaguely as she looked around the room once more and up at the ceiling. An expensive looking chandelier hung from it, casting warm light on them.

"I made it myself," the figure declared proudly, cocking their hip to one side and raising their chin up haughtily.

"With your bare hands?" Hermione blustered. How was that possible.

"Don't be absurd," the figure reprimanded, waving the topic away for now. But Hermione still had one last thing she had to be certain of.

"And we're-"

"Safe, yes." Hermione was cut off before she could complete the statement. "No one will be able to find us here provided we are careful to make sure we are not tailed. Oh, and you can take off your mask now," the figure gestured a hand flippantly and Hermione dutifully took the mask off, waiting for them to come back from the room they had disappeared into. They came a moment later with two cups of hot tea, cookies and a plate of sugar on a tray. They set it down on the table. "Help yourself," they motioned to it when Hermione just looked at it dumbly, the mask still hanging from her hands. She wasn't in the mood for food but for answers.

"Tell me, why did you save me?"

The figure rolled their eyes as if they were expecting this question and thought the answer was obvious. "Because you're like me." Hermione furrowed her brows at this.

"Oh, don't tell me you're going to give me vague answer as well. I'm so fed up and tired of this bullshit. Whatever I ask no one says anything of real value to!" Hermione threw up her hands in exasperation. "And if you're going to do the same I am done here."

The dark figure chuckled. "Feisty, just like me, and with an insatiable thirst for knowledge. I knew I sensed right. " When Hermione just glared at them, they moved on. "I never said I wasn't going to tell you. Give me time to explain everything in a concise manner and you'll have your answers soon enough. First, let's start off with introductions."

"Introductions?" Hermione wrinkled up her nose. Again she was being stalled from having her answers. Curiosity and impatience burned at her but she supposed she would do as the figure asked if it would make them talk. Besides, she kind of did want to know who the figure was.

"What is your name."

"Hermione," the brown haired girl responded. "And who are you?"

The figure slowly pulled down the hood around their head, revealing the mask fully. It was gold, coming down to their naval crease. It looked like it was heavy to wear, with a pair of ram horns that curled on the forehead of it and went back, holding in their hair. Lifting both hands up to their face they slowly took the golden ram mask off. Underneath it was a face that looked suited for royalty with it's high cheekbones, perfectly arched brows and full lips that rose arrogantly. Her hair, a mess of raven curls as dark as the tunnels they had walked through, tumbled down over her shoulders now that they were free.

"I am Bellatrix."

Hermione had not been expecting this. She didn't know what she had, she just knew not this. A strong feeling of familiarity hit her square in the stomach and she almost doubled over with how strong it was, her mask dropping to the ground. Bellatrix arched a brow in concern at Hermione's reaction but didn't say anything.

"I-I know you," Hermione gasped, coming upright once most of the sensation had passed.

"Glad to see you feel it too," Bellatrix said, tossing her mask onto her couch and sitting down next to it before helping herself to a cup of tea. She dropped a couple of sugar cubes into it and didn't even wait for them to fully dissolve before she took a sip. She winced when she discovered the liquid was still hot.

"You've felt this before too?" Hermione voiced, once she felt the sensations fade away but not completely. It tugged at her belly and made her fingers tingle.

"Yes," the older woman answered, holding her tea cup up to her lips and blowing into it.

"What does it mean? Surely it-we can't be feeling this for no reason," Hermione reasoned, approaching the woman.

"I know there is a reason for it, I just haven't figured it out yet, but it's why I went looking for you. Why I followed you."

"You followed me?" That was a stupid question. Hermione knew it was full true. She had seen the woman do it herself.

"I needed to make sure you were like me, that you sought to possess what I fought and searched for. And that is the truth. The truth will set us free from this place I am certain." Hermione approached the woman and sat down on the couch, her eyes trained and ears waiting hungrily to gulp down any sliver of knowledge the woman offered. "That first day when you came into the night club I felt a bit of hope. You see, whenever there are new arrivals there is always a high chance of them acting violently, of them demanding answers as they can sense something is wrong. But when you acted this way a second and third time I knew then that you were different. Usually a person would easily fall to the spell this place has over them but you didn't. You resisted and you fought. I knew I had to help you. I had to get to you before they did. But to truly test your mettle I led you to the room."

"The room with the dead bodies," Hermione whispered more to herself than to Bellatrix.

"Yes, the room with the dead bodies. I had discovered them myself a long time ago and it had helped to fuel my desire to leave this place. I had hoped that by showing you it, it would inspire the same in you. What I hadn't expected was for them to catch you and lock you into the prisons. I should have known better. After all I had spent some time down there too when they caught me snooping around and disrupting the public order."

"So you've been there before. That's why you knew how to escape. Did they lock you up for the same reasons as they did to me?" Hermione leaned closer, eager to learn more. Finally she was getting answers to something and her mind soaked it up greedily like a sponge.

Bellatrix cast her a look and gave a laugh of amusement at seeing Hermione's eager facial expression before the older witch sobered down, her mind wandering to her earlier days here. "I was trapped down there, for quite some time. I can't exactly recall how I got out but I know of the tests to leave that place only because of a gut feeling, not really more of an actual memory. Memory is a funny thing in this place."

"They erase our memories, is that right?" Hermione's eyes were glowing in interest. Maybe this Bellatrix could indeed help her escape. It seemed like she knew a lot about this place.

"That they do. And it is of our past, but I do not know why or how and sadly I cannot say if there is even a way of getting them back. We cannot dwell on that however. We must focus on our present situation."

"I think there might be a way to get past the memories," Hermione excitedly announced and jumped up, pacing in front of the fireplace as she voiced the sudden idea that had popped into her head. "Every time I try to think of something I feel pain-if we were to get past these pain blockades then we could-"

"Nope," Bellatrix sang, popping the p. This paused the brunette. "What do you mean no?" she resisted the urge to stamp her foot childishly, upset her ideas had been cut off before she could reach fruition.

"I've already tried dearie. I tried to the point of passing out from pain and it got me nowhere."

"What if-"

"Nope."

"Then what?" This time she did stamp her foot.

"It's obvious that whoever or whatever blocked our memories doesn't want them coming back for a reason. But sometimes little tidbits of information come through the barrier and we can use those glimpses of our former lives then, but other than that there is no point of dwelling on our past. We need to focus on our present and on getting out of here."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue but Bellatrix silenced her by holding up her hand. "The point is moot. Let's not focus on something we cannot change." Hermione closed her mouth realizing it was a good point and that she should let it go for now. She'd just bring it up sometime later.

"And how would we get out of here?"

"I've been working on it for a while now. And I think I have the solution." The woman got up at this and setting down her now empty cup of tea she walked up to Hermione grasping her hands. "First we need to make an alliance."

"An alliance?" Hermione was tempted to pull away from the woman. From this close up Hermione could see a darkness lurking behind her eyes and she didn't know how she felt about it.

"Yes, a pact. To cement our agreement to work together to get out of this blasted building once and for all. A promise to never betray the other, to never give into the evil wills of this place." Bellatrix looked at Hermione expectantly. The brunette found it weird that she would need to make a pact if they both had an unspoken agreement that they were on the same side.

"Also the agreement binds you to this place. It gives you clearance to enter and exit at your own discretion."

"I see," Hermione answered. There was so much that Bellatrix hadn't told her still but she had no one better to trust. Besides, the older witch had helped her escape so that had to count for something. "I want to add another condition to this pact if I may?" She gave the older woman a questioning look, who didn't look happy at this request but complied.

"What is it?"

"I want us to promise to each other that we will always be truthful to one another and that should one of us learn something new they will immediately tell the other." Bellatrix gave a crooked smile at this. "Of course you would add that. Fine. I agree to it." At Bellatrix's words a strand of yellow wove around their hands and then evaporated.

"What was that?" Hermione asked perplexed, cocking her head to one side as Bellatrix released their hands and strode back to her couch. Hermione stood where she was looking her hands over as if she could find where the yellow strand had hidden itself.

"That, my dearie is magic," Bellatrix announced spreading her hands above her head in flourish. "And our first step to breaking out of here."


	6. Where There's a Witch, There's a Way

* * *

_A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work- Colin Powell_

* * *

"Magic?" Hermione echoed dumbly. "How is that going to get us out of here?"

"Calm down, old Bellatrix will explain everything, if you just listen." She gave the brunette a pointed look until the girl had calmed down. "Now, do you know what this is?"

The black haired woman pulled out a stick from under her robe. Hermione had seen it so many times in her past, she was sure, and she knew it was important yet-

"It's a wand!" the words burst out of her mouth before she could stop them and she clamped her hands over her lips in surprise at the level of her sudden outburst. She finally knew what the word for that object was! It had just popped into her head and she had no doubt it was correct.

"Very good," Bellatrix purred, placing the wand to her lips. "You see this one is  _my_  wand. It's special to me and it helps me cast my magic. I'm a witch I'm certain of it. When I went into the morgue and heard those men mention witches and wizards and wars I knew that somehow I was one of them, something just clicked in my head. And I knew that I had to have a wand of my own. It was just trapped in a room somewhere. So I snooped around, looking everyday until I came across my darling wand." Bellatrix was walking around the room, lost in her recollections. She paid no mind to Hermione even as she strode past her. The brunette watched her, cautious of the caged energy the woman was exerting. "And since you know what this is," she waved her wand, "then I assume you must be a witch too."

"Me, a witch? And how does that help our situation, by us being witches?" The brunette wasn't entirely certain where the raven haired witch was going with this.

"Because if we are witches we have wands and these wands enable us to do magic. Magic that will help us fight back and break free from this place. Just take this castle for example. I created it solely with my magic." The raven haired witch turned on her heel and stared intently at the brunette, pointing her wand at her in emphasis. The fire crackled merrily behind her from where she stood in front of the fireplace. It cast her shadow across the room, making her seem bigger than she was and more powerful. Again Hermione's belly tugged with a familiar sensation. She had to have known this woman in her past but how and why? With her standing intimidatingly like this, fire crackling behind, like a solider standing above her defeated enemies as their homes burned behind her, called up a memory in of the other in Hermione's head and she waited for it to surface closer but when it didn't she tried to grasp onto it and was rewarded with fingers of pain that stabbed into her eyeballs.

"I told you to ignore the memories," Bellatrix said, noting Hermione's grimace as she shut her eyes.

"I know," the brunette snapped back feeling a bit annoyed at being reprimanded, and rubbed her eyes until the pain subsided. "It's hard to not do it."

Bellatrix waited until all of Hermione's attention was on her before continuing. "Going on, all we have to do is find your wand."

"Find it? But where is it? I didn't have it anywhere on my person."

"I know that. The workers here have gotten smarter about that. They know better than to leave a witch with their wand."

"Is the fact that we're witches what protects us from this place?"

Bellatrix arched a brow as she lowered the wand to her side. "What ever do you mean?"

"You said that you and I are different from the rest of the people here. That I was rebellious usually when others are complacent."

Bellatrix shook her head rigorously. "I don't know if magic has anything to do with our resilience. Certainly there are other wizards and witches here too. I would hazard a guess that it's more because of our personalities, of who we are as people. I saw a lot of myself in you and I knew you would be a fighter. Someone vital to my cause. You and I have a dangerous fire inside us. A fire that lets us fight." Bellatrix smirked and raised her chin. "Now we're going to go out and fetch your wand. I know where it is and-"

"Shouldn't we wait on this?" Hermione asked, not certain if they should be going out right now.

"Why ever not?" Bellatrix asked, annoyance flaring in her eyes at being interrupted.

"It's just that since I escaped surely they will be looking for me. It won't be safe to go out."

"That's exactly what we want. The staff here will know that you'll be in hiding since you recently escaped so the last thing they would expect is for you to be out and about."

Hermione set her mouth. Well, she couldn't argue with that, especially if the logic sounded reasonable. And Bella had been here longer so she knew better.

"How long have you been doing this?" Hermione questioned as the black haired witch put her mask back on her face and pulled her hood up, hiding her mass of raven curls under it. "Why does that matter?" was the slightly defensive answer.

Hermione shrugged. "Just wondering. Curious really." She looked over to her side trying to feigning disinterest.

Bellatrix's lips curved up in a smirk. "You really love questions, don't you." She hid her wand into her robe as she considered what to say. "All I can say is that I've been doing this for far too long. Time has a weird way of working here."

Hermione nodded her head in consideration of this. Time did work weirdly here. She still had no idea how long she had been trapped in that room. And she doubted Bellatrix would know the exact amount either. "Put on your mask." The witch threw the mask the brunette had dropped to the floor at her chest. She fumbled to catch it. "Why?"

Bellatrix tsked. "Again with the questions." She only sounded mildly annoyed because she knew she owed to explain to the girl how things worked here, she was only miffed that she couldn't not say something the minute it was asked because of their agreement. But she had agreed so it was her own fault. She had been desperate to have a comrade in arms-a witch of all things! How wondrous- and this was what desperation bred. Bellatrix had a feeling she wasn't a desperate person. That she was the type that breed desperation in others, but she couldn't fathom why such a thing would happen.

"You simply need to wear the masks in this world."

"Reason being-?" Hermione put on the mask obediently and looked at Bellatrix, awaiting the explanation. Bellatrix let her smirk drop from her face as a memory etched into her mind forever ran across the forefront of her brain. She had been at a restaurant, eating by herself when the incident had occurred. In it a man, who had removed his mask for whatever reason, turned into a burning inferno, his screams ringing through her ears horrifically as he fell to his knees in agony, others avoiding him and moving on to other tasks. All Bellatrix could do was stand and watch as slowly his cries died out and all that was left of him was a pile of still smoking ash, small flames dancing in it before they too died out. The only thing untouched had been his mask, a crying face.

She shivered as the memory brought her joy. Why had she been happy seeing him suffer? She pushed it out of her mind as she approached the entrance of her house. "Because if you don't wear it you'll face something unpleasant," she stated grimly and vaguely and she could see a thousand more questions forming on Hermione's face but she turned her back on her and pulled open her door. "Now, like I said, they won't be expecting us to be out so soon, but that doesn't mean we get sloppy," Bellatrix instructed as they walked down the passageway and out past the statue of the man with wings. She lowered her voice and hunched down behind the statue, Hermione doing the same as her. The raven haired witch looked both ways to make sure the hall was empty before she strode up to the plain wall in front of them. She pulled out her wand and tapped on the wall, muttering out a word in a different language. A hole opened up from them, just big enough to let them through.

"What's this?" Hermione poised as they walked through and ended up in a completely different space from the one they had just been in.

"I opened up a portal to where the wands are being held."

"You must have practiced a lot to do this," Hermione had an appreciative look in her eyes at the witch's magic.

Bellatrix couldn't help but lift her chin up arrogantly. "I didn't practice. I only did what felt natural. The magic and spell words just come to me."

"You must be really powerful. I have a feeling that you were, whoever you were in the past." Bellatrix smiled at this innocent comment but it didn't reach her eyes. Yes, she sensed that she was powerful too, but there was something more. Something darker and unnameable that bothered her. She wasn't entirely certain she had used her powers in an appropriate manner.

"The wands are in this room," Bellatrix said as she strode past Hermione to a gray door. They looked to be in a basement of some sort, darkly lit. The witch tapped on the door, frowning. "They've reinforced it. Nothing I can't handle." With a confident swish of her wand and murmur of words the door sprung open revealing a room full of boxes on shelves.

"All you have to do now is let the wand call to you."

"Let it call to me?" Hermione shot the witch an incredulous look.

"Each wand is specifically tailored to the user. It feels...," Bellatrix stuck her tongue in her cheek, searching for the right words. "You'll just know when it happens." She gave up, losing forbearance for finding the right phrasing, and pushed Hermione into the middle of the room.

Hermione cast her an uncertain stare as the witch backed up against the wall and waited, leaning against it and twiddling the wand between her nimble fingers. "Well? Will you get on with it?" she said impatiently and Hermione snapped her head back to focus on her task. The witch had said the wand would call to her...but how? Hermione decided to approach the boxes on the shelves and see if they jumped out at her or something.

She walked up and down the rows, reading the labels on the boxes. Some of them were odd. One label said  _Black Plague wands: Do Not Touch_  and another a row down said _French Revolution_  and some simply had dates on them like  _100 B.C to 500 B.C_. How odd indeed.

"Could you hurry it up?" Bellatrix's impatient statement brought the brunette out of her wondering. She had been walking aimlessly around for a while now, lost in the world of shelved boxes and dates. "You know we don't have all day here. Someone could be bound to come in."

"I would hurry if only I knew where it was. There's so many different dates and eras on these boxes. What do they mean?" Hermione ran her finger over a label with the words  _World War One_  on it.

"They mean what they mean." Bellatrix waved her hand dismissively. "They probably meant something to us in our past but not now." Hermione continued to move down the rows, irritated that this was taking so long. How many rows had she been down already? She was just about to complain that perhaps Bellatrix had been wrong in diagnosing her as a witch when she felt it, a tingle in her fingers.

Her hands curled reflexively and her eyes zoomed in on where she felt a strong pull of magic coming from. She could feel the sensation spreading from her fingers to her arms and she smiled. This had to be it. This had to be the call! She strode over to a box labeled  _Voldemort's War_. A strong shiver ran down her back as she read the name, a bitter taste filling her mouth but she didn't know why. Throwing the feeling away she opened the box and saw it was brimming with wands.

 _Well, this makes things harder,_  Hermione wrinkled her nose. How was she to know now? Surely not  _all_  the wands were calling to her.

"Are you done yet?"

"Almost!" Hermione shot back, considering if she should just take the whole box with her and pick and prod through them all back in the safe house. She shifted a couple aside with her fingers experimentally, the tingling growing stronger and then to a burning as her pointer finger touched a wand. She pulled it out, shutting the lid on the box and examined it, the burning only increasing as all her digits wrapped around the wand. She reveled in the feel of it on her palm and the way she felt comfortable and safe with it. So this was what she had been missing all those times her hand had twitched. She was missing this wand! Just like she knew certain things in this world without explanation were true, she knew this wand was undoubtedly her's. The grain of the wood, vine, reeked with familiarity and she instantly knew it had a core of dragon heart string. She wanted to test it out, to see if she could cast magic but suddenly Bellatrix was next to her, grabbing her by her shoulder and roughly moving her.

"You found your wand, good, yes. Now we must go. There are workers coming here." Bellatrix steered them away from the door after waving her wand and having it close. She was looking for a flat wall to open a portal on, her eyes roving quickly back and forth. At last she found one at the very back of the room.

"Was this door locked before?" a muffled voice asked. Someone had arrived at the door.

"No. You probably locked it when you left." Answered another.

"I didn't lock it!" the first voice insisted, insulted. "I don't have the keys for it."

"Well then you better get the keys, or else we can't get in." There was a rattling as the door handle moved but stayed firmly shut.

"Quickly, in you go," Bellatrix shoved Hermione in through the portal she had reopened and both of them ended back up in front of the statue. Without wasting a second, Bellatrix opened the secret passageways as well and soon the two were back in the safe house.

"So?" the raven witch asked, removing her mask and tossing it to the couch. "How's the wand?"

Hermione looked at the piece of wood she had clenched between her fingers. "It's mine. It called to me." She looked up at the witch. "Do you think I will be able to do magic with it?"

"What a silly question.  _Baubillious!"_  Without warning a streak of white lighting flashed from Bellatrix's wand straight at Hermione. The brunette's wand shot up and she shouted out " _Protego!_ " in time for a shield to rise and block the attack. Her heart pounding dreadfully in her chest from the near attack, she lowered her wand only when she felt it was safe to do so. How had she know to do this? Her body had moved on instinct.

"See, and you were worried you couldn't do magic," Bellatrix cackled, twirling her wand between her fingers. "You can, we'll just have to draw it out of you." She ripped off the heavy black cloak on her shoulders for the first time and tossed it to the side, a wide grin on her face, excited to trade blows with another witch. She was wearing a black dress underneath with a tight corset and high heels. How had she been able to run in them? They looked taller than Hermione's did yet the witch moved so quickly during the time Hermione had chased her. Hermione didn't give it another thought as she focused on the raven haired witch in front of her who was pacing around the room, forcing the brunette to pace around as well unless she wanted the other to bump into her. Hermione didn't know if she was ready for a fight. She had wanted to see her magic abilities but in quiet contemplation and in practicing it in the privacy of a room. Would trading blows bring it out faster?

The other witch watched her with a predatory gaze as they continued to circle around the room. The fire in the hearth had lost most of it's intensity from before. It would die out if no one attended to it yet Bellatrix didn't pause to fix it, too intent on dueling Hermione. "So are you going first? Or are you waiting on me?" Bellatrix asked playfully.

"I-"

" _Stupefy_!" a spell was flung at Hermione catching her off guard once more. She barely managed to put up her shield from before, blocking the attack. How was the witch so damn fast with casting these spells? But Bellatrix didn't stop there. " _Tarantallegra! Sectumsempra!_ " Bolts of blue, red and green magic flew from her wand tip and it was all Hermione could do to either deflect, protect or dodge to avoid the spells. Burns in the floor formed from where Bellatrix's magic hit it as Hermione fought to remain on her feet and out of harm's way. She was sweating already and they had only barely started, or at least Bellatrix had. Hermione felt like she had been fighting for forever, but the witch didn't look at all tired despite the rapid succession of her spells. She shot a few more at Hermione, cackling with delight. "Come now pet, surely you can do better than that! Attack me, I know you have to have a few attacks up your sleeve."

Hermione would, but the other witch wasn't slowing down her onslaught; she had no open window to cast a retaliatory spell! Unless she...

She ducked behind one of tables, a spell flying over her head. "Hiding now, are we?" the way Bellatrix voiced this, in a sing song manner, made Hermione's heart clutch in fear. She swore she had to have heard these words from the others woman mouth in the past, and they had brought her fear and pain. Suddenly Hermione was very afraid of the other witch in the room and her breaths came in shallowly as she fought the rising panic in her. For some reason she needed to get out, she needed to win this fight or else she would die!

" _Confrigo!_ " a bolt of frantic magic escaped from her wand tip to the ceiling of this room, which promptly exploded with a terrific boom and shower of fire.

"The bloody hell-!" Bellatrix exclaimed, not expecting that, as chunks of plaster and dust showered over her. She waved her wand to get rid of them and that's when Hermione popped up from her hiding place and pointed her wand at her. " _Expelliarmus_!" Bellatrix's wand went soaring out of her hand and into Hermione's and the duel was over.

"Well, that's a new spell," Bellatrix said blinking her eyes slowly in shock at being disarmed so easily. She had thought that she would win this duel, that she was the stronger of the two, but maybe this young witch would prove her wrong. Hermione didn't say anything, just breathed in and out. The poor girl looked like she had just been through an ordeal. The battle hadn't taken  _that_  much out of her, had it?

"I think I'd like to practice on my own now," Hermione's voice was soft and almost squeaky in quality. Bellatrix furrowed her brows and cocked her head as she accepted the wand Hermione handed back to her. "Of course. You're room is upstairs."

"I'm staying here?"

Bellatrix laughed. "And why wouldn't you? You're no longer safe in your room, they'll only hunt you down. No one can get in here. I guarantee it." She smiled but Hermione avoided her gaze. Why was the girl acting so strangely now? Hadn't she felt her blood sing in joy as they traded spells? Hadn't she felt the way it felt so natural to fight one another?  _Hadn't she?_  Why was she so glum?

"I'll be on my way then." She headed upstairs, leaving the older witch with a still smoldering ceiling and a mess on the floor. The fire had gone out too due to the gusts of wind caused by their spell casting. She frowned. Now she'd have to clean up this mess. She really needed to think things over better before she started slinging magic carelessly around.


	7. The Key to What We Seek

* * *

_In the animal kingdom one of the keys to survival is to outwit your enemies. Neil deGrasse Tyson_

* * *

Hermione found a room on the second floor of Bella's house that was small and comfy. It had a bed with curtains trailing from the top and a soft chair that was perfect for curling up and reading in. She decided this would be her room. She practiced waving her wand around in it and muttered a few spells, trying to forget her earlier fear at facing the black haired witch. She had seemed so different...so dangerous and Hermione had to wonder who the witch had been in the past. Had she been a fighter for the army of wizards and witches?

Sighing and shaking her head she gave up on practicing magic. The spells were hard to come by; it seemed like combat training was the best way to draw out a spell. Her body was in danger and more likely to use instincts to protect herself, the spells coming naturally to the tip of her tongue.

She changed out of her clothes and into pj's before she crawled into the bed, loving how soft the sheets felt and how her tired body sank into the mattress. It had been a long day if she thought about it. She had escaped from prison, passed through two tests, fetched her wand, fought Bellatrix and learned something of this place she was in, or at the very least learned about her situation. She had an alliance with the woman, one that gave her hope. Maybe she could finally get out of here. With that bright thought in her head she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

She awoke the next morning to her door being violently slammed open. She jumped up in bed, reaching defensively for where she had left her wand on the night table.

"Wakey wakey!" It was only Bellatrix, grin on her face and hands on her hips. Hermione let her hand relax and used it to brush some hair out of her eyes to glare at the witch. "We're going to train today. Hurry up and get dressed."

"Train?" Hermione groaned as she slowly got out of her bed. Her body ached from yesterday's battle even though it had lasted a mere five minutes.

"Yes," the black haired witch insisted, shaking her head up and down so her raven curls bounced. She was wearing a different dress today although it was still black, and the sleeves long. "If we're going to escape from here you need to be proficient with magic otherwise they'll get us. So we'll be training today, tomorrow, and for as long as needed until you are comfortable with it. I better see you downstairs in five." Then she left, slamming the door closed behind her as she exited.

Hermione let out a groan. She didn't really feel like fighting again. She was scared the emotions that had risen inside her yesterday would do the same today. What would she tell Bellatrix if they did? Did the witch feel the same way? She knew that the dark witch felt familiar with her but that was it.

Hermione searched through the drawers in the room, looking for something suitable to wear. She found several pairs of pants and shirts- which must have been magicked here, especially since it had her measurements down right-but was disappointed to find that when she put them on all the color drained from them and they were white. "What the-?" Hermione tore them off to see if their color would regain but it didn't. So she tried on another pair of clothes only to have the same results. What was going on?

"Hermione! Get down here!" Bellatrix ordered, stopping Hermione from trying on a third pair of clothes. Right, she could ask Bellatrix about this!

"Bella, do you know whats going on?" she asked as she rushed down the stairs where the older woman was standing with her hands on her hips at the bottom step.

"With what?"

"With this?" Hermione gestured to her clothes as she paused on the final step to let Bella get a good look.

"Their just clothes," she shrugged noncommittally.

"No, I mean yes, but look, they all change white when I put them on."

"I thought you knew about this already."

"I didn't."

"It's a curse of this place. Each person is assigned a certain color. You white and me black and others gray. And no matter what we wear we can't change our colors."

"Why?"

Bellatrix threw up her hands, done with this conversation. "I don't know but it's not important. Now are you going to stand there all day and complain about it or are you going to go train so we can leave this place along with its nonsensical rules?"

"Fine," Hermione huffed a bit petulant with how the other witch was behaving impatiently. "You fixed the room?" she asked instead, trying to get the witch back into a good mood. "It looks as good as new." And it did. There was no sign of their fight from last night.

"Yes, I did." the witch snapped back, not falling for the compliment and leading the two girls through the kitchen and past some more rooms before pausing in front of a heavy metal door. "I made a separate room for us so we could train in. We can get as violent and reckless in here as we want." She said this with an excited childlike grin, pushed the door open and the two stepped in.

The room inside was a forest and Hermione was astonished. Magic was so awesome! Look at what it could create! And Bellatrix was awesome if she could create such things. Hermione wondered if she would be able to as well once her magic improved.

"I magicked this room so that it would take on the form of various scenarios. I know there are no forests here but I wanted to fight in one. Later on we'll train in smaller spaces, like hotel hallways, so that we can get used to close combat." Hermione nodded her head as her attention turned to her surroundings. A warm breeze tugged at her hair ends, birds chirped outside, the grass crinkled under her shoes. It all felt so real. She let the sun warm her skin as she closed her eyes to tilt her face up at it. Bellatrix watched the younger girl enjoy her room and snorted, although she was pleased the girl was amazed by it. "If you're done dawdling lets get on with the magic, shall we pet?"

Hermione nodded her head and drew out her wand, Bellatrix's already out. "I won't go easy on you this time," she promised and sent a flurry of spells at Hermione who only barely put up her shield in time. And Bellatrix held true to her promise. Yesterday was nothing compared to today. She sent her spells with such strength at the younger girl that Hermione's wrist almost snapped. Her feet left gouges in the dirt as she was pushed steadily backwards towards a line of trees.

 _Shit, she's so strong!_ Hermione's muscles ached with exertion as Bellatrix let out a cackle of glee. Again the black haired witch could feel her veins singing. She felt alive, more alive than she had in all her time here! But the same couldn't be said for Hermione. She noticed the dark and hungry look on the other witches face and fear enveloped her heart. Bellatrix changed when she went into battle and it truly terrified Hermione because she didn't know why. All she knew was that she had to run, to escape...

The brunette let out a cry as the earth exploded under her feet and sent her careening backwards into a bush. She scrambled to her feet, spitting out leaves and leaving strands of hair behind as she quickly pulled free to face her opponent a new. Before she had even steadied her wand a spell caught her in her chest and she was flung onto her back, her wand skittering away from her reach. She lay there gasping and trying to get her bearing as the world spun and sparkled in front of her eyes.

"Hermione. Hermione, are you alright?" a voice called to her. It sounded like it came from underwater. A dark figure approached, obscuring the light. "Hermione, can you stand?" the figure outstretched a hand for help but it seemed all wrong, the wand in her other hand a knife and her face twisted up in a cruel expression. "Where's the sword!" her voice echoed around the brunette even as her lips stayed closed. With a gasp Hermione turned onto her stomach and began scrambling for her wand blindly through the leaves and dirt, needing to get away to protect herself. She knew she had dropped it close by but where was it?

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Bellatrix asked, confused by the fear that had covered the girls face when she went to stand over her. She watched the girl crawl through the leaves, searching frantically for something.

"S-stay back," Hermione cried out, pointing her wand at the older woman once she had found it. She slowly got to her feet, her eyes never leaving the other. Bellatrix took a step forward. "Stay away from me you monster!" Bellatrix froze at this, hurt by the girl's accusations.

"Hermione," she whispered softly. "What's going on?" she lowered her wand slowly to show the girl she meant no harm. "I'm not going to hurt you. See?" she dropped the wand to the floor and then kicked it aside and raised her hands up gently, mimicking a human approaching a stray animal that was on the verge of fleeing. Hermione watched her, her jaw working and her wand hand shaking. After what seemed a while she lowered her wand slowly and dropped her head into her free hand. "I think we need to talk Bellatrix."

* * *

"So when you fight me, you get these memories that frighten you?" Bellatrix softly stated. The two girl's were sitting on a rock, observing a sunset that Bellatrix had magicked. The leaves swayed gently above them as Hermione looked down at her hands and fiddled with the wand she was holding there. Bellatrix's gaze was on the sun and if she was insulted by Hermione's admission she didn't let on.

Hermione nodded her head. "Do you feel the same when you fight me?"

The black haired witch was quiet a moment. "No." She offered at last. "I only feel like its right. Like..." she frowned when she couldn't find the words she wanted to express herself. "Simply put I don't see what you see, or feel how you feel in these moments."

"What could this mean? Bellatrix, what or who were we in our past? I feel like I knew you and you said you feel the same way so what does this mean? Were we acquaintances? Family? Friends? Or enemies?" Hermione's voice got soft on the last word. She hated to think that would be an option but it could be, given the way she feared the older witch so much when they fought.

Bellatrix's scowl only deepened as the last word struck a chord with her. She could feel buried memories surfacing to the top and she squashed them down, not wanting to be privy to these dark remembrances.

Hermione took Bellatrix's extended silence as a yes. Once more she poised the thought, her words wavering. "Bellatrix, do you think you've ever hurt anyone before? Do you think you've ever hurt  _me_ before?" Bellatrix felt something inside her coil tight. A sense of pride, of joy at the thought of bringing pain to others. Hadn't she liked it when she had knocked Hermione off of her feet? She had felt so powerful then. Even under the insult Hermione had dealt her by calling her a monster she felt a sick sort of satisfaction that she had made someone so terrified of her. A monster...the word fit her perfectly. But she wasn't going to admit this to anyone, not even Hermione, her own thoughts and feelings scaring her.

"Let me ask you the same then," Bellatrix rumbled. "Have you ever hurt anyone before?"

Hermione immediately shook her head no.

This quick and confident admission made Bellatrix feel even worse but she kept her face neutral. "I think it matters not who we were back then but who we are right now. I think the things you sense could be meant to dissuade you from helping me. A sort of curse put on you by the hotel." If Hermione noticed that Bellatrix had avoided her initial question she didn't mention it.

"You really think so?" Hermione asked hopefully, looking at the other witch. Bellatrix did not meet her gaze, her eyes focused on something on the distance. She couldn't face Hermione as she lied to her.

"I'm sure it is. I've been giving this hotel hell ever since I got here and since they can't stop me they certainly don't want others helping me and making me even more unstoppable." She smiled at this and raised her chin haughtily. "They are afraid of the great Bellatrix."

Hermione found her grin infectious and soon was smiling too. It felt better having this talk. She felt more at ease now. "I suppose I can ignore these feelings then."

"You'll have no other option. We have to continue practicing. You were pitiful today." The witch shot her a look and Hermione stuck out her tongue in retaliation.

And so the two witches continued to practice. Days passed, hours spent solely on enhancing Hermione's combat skills. The brunette tried to push her fear of the other out of her head as they dueled and found it was easier to do so as more time went on. What bothered her was the spells the dark witch used. They were cruel and hurtful. And when the older witch tried to teach them to her she vehemently resisted.

"Why not?!" the dark witch shouted in exasperation, her patience worn thin after Hermione's continued refusal of her magic.

"Because," the girl stamped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. "Their wrong!"

"How are they wrong?"

"They just are. I can't explain it but they-I-you shouldn't be using spells like these." Hermione tripped up a little in the middle of the sentence due to her annoyance at the dark haired woman's ardent beliefs in the dark magic.

"Nonsense," Bellatrix threw up her hands, and stomped her foot too. "These are perfectly good spells that will help you when it comes time to fight."

"No. I just can't. Their wrong and I won't use them!" Bellatrix let out a growl at this and rushed towards the girl, grabbing her roughly by her upper arm. "Quit being stupid! You only think this way because of the hotel's spell-"

"It's not the spell! I feel how wrong this is in my bones. I refuse to use a crucio curse or anything of the likes. That magic is dark. It's not my type of specialty." Hermione gazed back into the dark witches eyes and Bellatrix let go of her arm, afraid of the questions burning in the others gaze. She could know what Hermione was thinking and she didn't like it. She was questioning her knowledge of these spells and Bellatrix wasn't ready to admit to why she knew them. Again the sense of unease tickled at her, the sense that something was wrong with her. That she had done something bad in her past and couldn't remember it.

"Fine, have it your way. Don't learn the spells. See if I care," she grunted out through gritted teeth and then left to go upstairs to avoid being interrogated, her black dress trailing angrily after her. Hermione watched her go, massaging where the older witch had grabbed her painfully. Why did the older witch know such dark magic? Hermione's muscle memory never once indicated the brunette had used such spells. What was the dark witch hiding from her?

The dark witch avoided Hermione after that. Hermione had no idea where her room was in this house despite looking for it several times. Either the witch must have hidden it from her with magic or there was a secret third floor. This irritated Hermione to no extent. She was left with nothing to do but sit in the living room and tend to the fire. All the books on the shelves had turned out to be blank, only for decorative purposes and the other rooms in the house were empty of anything entertaining to do. Luckily the kitchen had some food and Hermione took to making herself a meal whenever she grew hungry. She wondered how Bellatrix was getting her own food if she hadn't appeared in days. Shrugging and telling herself it wasn't her problem to deal with, Hermione made herself a simple sandwich with a cup of tea to go with it. She had just settled down by the coffee table to eat her meal when Bellatrix traipsed down the stairs, her long dress swirling after her. "Don't get too comfortable now dearie. We're off on a mission." She looked to be in high spirits.

"Nice to see you," Hermione grumbled darkly as she took a bite of her meal. The witch ignored her jibe.

"I'll quickly fill you in before we must leave." The witch settled down in the armchair across from Hermione, kicking her boots up on the table.

"So we're not going to address the fact how you completely ignored me for several days? And not once, even made an appearance downstairs or told me what you were doing?" Hermione said accusingly. Again the dark haired witch ignored her.

"I've being pondering and pondering over how we could leave this place and I know how. There are three judges here in this world." The older witch displayed three fingers. Hermione grumbled angrily but settled in reluctantly. She was still mad at Bellatrix's actions but curiosity overrode her ire. The witch was about to give her information and she loved information. She took another bite of her food as the witch continued on.

"And these three judges are the main people who run this hotel. I know that they each have a key. Separately the keys are useless but get all three together and they open a door. A door that no one except the judges use."

"And? Are you suggesting that their keys, are the key to getting out? That the door leads somewhere?"

"Exactly," the dark witch agreed, looking pleased at the brunette. She dropped her legs to the ground so she could lean forwards intently in her seat.

"But how do we know it actually works?"

"Because why would the ringleaders of this place have something like that? Their guarding them, so they must have value; a use they don't want us to know of." The witch whispered reverently. "But I know because I've been collecting data on this godforsaken place since I first got here. They think their clever but their not. Nothing gets past my notice. I even saw them use it." This was said proudly with a smug grin. "So I know it works."

Hermione chewed her sandwich thoughtfully. "And where exactly is this door? And how would we even go about collecting these keys from them? I highly doubt we can get them to just hand them over to us."

"Questions, questions," Bellatrix muttered, waving her hands in the air in a mock gesture of Hermione's blabbering mouth. "Can't you just take what I say in stride and go with it. We always waste so much time talking through things. I'm done wasting time here. I want action!" The dark witch got up from her chair, pacing angrily and flicking the fire in the hearth on with a swish of her wand.

"Well excuse me for wanting to learn what it is I'm dragging myself into," Hermione sniffed, having finished her meal and wiping her mouth on a napkin.

"We swore never to betray one another, so I don't see why you can't trust me," the witch turned on her, eyes flashing.

"I can't because you disappear for days and don't tell me anything about what it is you've been doing. That's not exactly trust worthy behavior." Hermione had gotten up, her hands curling in choler. Bellatrix only sneered at this.

"Perhaps I was planning our attack, our course of action and I wanted some peace of mind without you sticking your nosy nose into it! Or is that idea too ridiculous to get past your bushy hair?"

Hermione let out an offended gasp. Why was the witch being so nasty? "Leave my hair out of this! What did it ever do to you?"

"It exists that's what it does. It offends my eyes every time I look at you!" Bellatrix shot back, baring her teeth as the two childishly bantered.

Hermione felt her eyes sting with tears. "Well at least I-" Hermione struggled to find something wrong with Bella's appearance to insult. "At least I'm not an old vindictive bitch!" She settled on at last. Bellatrix raised her chin haughtily as if she knew that Hermione didn't have squat on her to insult. "Is that all you've got?" she mocked.

"You know what, if I bother you so much, you can just do this yourself! I'm leaving!" Hermione rushed to the door, one arm thrown over her eyes to prevent the other from seeing the tears that had leaked free.

"No, don't!" Bellatrix shrieked out in panic but Hermione didn't stop. She placed her door on the handle. "Goodbye Bellatrix. I wish you luck in your future endeavors," she sniffled and turned it before opening it.

"Hermione no!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I gave Bellatrix a solid gold mask in this one with ram horns as an allusion to an Egyptian myth. In it a ram headed man protects Maut, which is the river of the afterlife that the sun god Ra travels everyday in order to start his journey across the sky. By Bellatrix wearing this mask, it means she is protecting something, and that something is Hermione.
> 
> As for Hermione, her masks changed a lot in the story so there is no real symbolism to them yet. I do plan on her getting a proper mask, one that is owl shaped because owls represent wisdom and that is what she craves the most here. She wants and wishes to figure out this world despite everyone telling her there is no sense to it.


	8. A Ball Where You Fall

_Dance is the hidden language of the soul of the body. Martha Graham  
_

* * *

The sound of frantic footsteps alerted the brunette to Bellatrix's moving before the weight of her body slammed into Hermione, the older witches hand slapping the door closed before Hermione could so much as move a toe past the threshold.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked indignantly as she turned around to face the older witch who still hadn't moved. Her left hand was wrapped around her waist to prevent her from leaving and other hand still over her hand on the back of the door. The older witches eyes swam with real fear and her face had paled.

"Don't do that." Her voice was a soft horror stricken whisper.

"Do what? Leave? Because you clearly wanted me to," Hermione said, pushing the arm around her waist away and crossing her arms over her chest. Bellatrix leaned back, giving the two of them more space. "You can't leave without a mask."

Hermione jutted her chin in what Bellatrix knew was a wordless question. With a sigh she took her hand off the door, feeling a bit safer now that Hermione wasn't going to burn into a crisp. She had flew into a panic when she had seen the brunette head to the door without a mask on and moved without thinking. Her heart was settling down in her rib cage and she felt her voice was steady enough to respond. "It's not safe without it."

Hermione arched her brows, not satisfied with this answer.

"You'll die," Bellatrix snarled out at last. Damn was this girl infuriating. She had thought her curiosity would be helpful to their cause but it was only stressing her out more. "There, are you happy? Are you glad you know?" Bellatrix shook her hands, her voice raising in pitch.

Hermione was quiet. Then: "Why does that happen?"

Bellatrix wanted to let out a scream and tear her hair out. Of course the girl had another infuriating question on her tongue!

"I don't know okay, I don't know everything!" the black haired witch strode back to the living room and poked at the fire angrily, trying to calm herself down before she snapped and flung a curse at the girl.

"So if I wear my mask then can I leave? Cause I gather you don't need my help."

Bellatrix didn't answer, poking her fire until her eyes teared up from glaring at it for so long. Her nostrils flared as she took calming breaths to ease the internal fire inside her. "I do need your help," she said at last, quietly.

"You what? I couldn't hear you." Bellatrix gave a small start at this. The girl had soundlessly came closer to her and she hadn't been expecting her to. She cast a look to see the smug expression on her face and knew the girl had heard. She was just going to make it more difficult on Bella. "I said I need your help," she breathed through gritted teeth. "So I'd appreciate it if you stayed."

"And?" Hermione arched her brow and Bellatrix nearly bent the poker in her hand as she held back the snarl that threatened to rip from her lips. Instead her hands flexed on the poker and her lips twitched. "I apologize for my rude words. I'm simply on edge because I wish to get moving with the mission." She raised her chin, daring Hermione to refuse this apology. It was the best she would get. The other girl seemed to sense this because she took it. "I accept your apology. Now, enlighten me on this mission of yours."

"Now we're talking!" Bellatrix exclaimed excitedly, throwing the poker away and all her previous anger gone as she hurriedly explained everything she had planned to Hermione, her eyes alive with the exhilaration of doing something that would bring her closer to freedom. The girl struggled to reign in her questions until Bellatrix was done informing. But when they had briefed extensively the girl agreed to it.

"I'll do it."

"Good, now we have to get dressed. Can't be late for our ball now, can we?" Bellatrix winked and set off to fetch their dresses.

The ball gown that Bellatrix had picked out for Hermione was stunning. It was white of course, with accents of gold and intricate patterns that followed the material and gave her a dove like innocent appearance. Long gloves went up to her elbows with flowing gauzy white material attached to them (they made her feel like she had wings like a bird, a touch ridiculous really) and a corset pushed up her cleavage making it look bigger than it actually was. She didn't feel too comfortable with showing so much of her skin, her whole chest and back free but sucked it up. She had to look the part for her role in this. And her role was very vital. Everything depended on her playing the part right and on getting the key. Carefully she combed and styled her hair into the manner Bellatrix had instructed her too, the hair flowing down her back in gentle waves and she put on a heavy pearl necklace that laid nicely against her skin, before adding pearl bracelets. And for the final touch she put on her mask. It had a plumage of feathers at the top and swirling gold designs dripping down from her eyes. It covered a majority of her face which she was grateful for. Giving an appreciative twirl in the mirror she slyly smiled to herself. She felt beautiful, now if only she could feel confident enough to pull this off.

"Bella, I'm done," she announced, stepping out of her room and bumping into the older woman who was just outside her door. Whereas Hermione's outfit was light and pure the older woman's was dark and predatory. Her's was the opposite of Hermione's; long black sleeves, black with purple and red flairs and a corset (although she didn't really need one, so Hermione found it rather unfair she was wearing one) and a mask that was cat like, red whiskers drawn on the black material and two small black ears that protruded among the mass of raven curls that Bellatrix had swept one half over her shoulder and the rest over her back. Her neckline plunged dangerously and Hermione tore her gaze away to look at her choker instead. It was inlaid with a precious looking gem that matched the red of the witches crimson lips. Bellatrix had really dressed up for the part too, and Hermione was jealous how good the woman looked for her age. Surely she had to be in her thirties yet she was giving Hermione a run for her money and she was only...only what, twenty? No, that age didn't seem right.  _So even my age is a mystery here._

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Bellatrix smirked, causing Hermione to blush, realizing she had been staring at the other woman wordlessly and at her cleavage where her gaze had drawn unconsciously to again.

"Uh, no, I was just wondering what the purse was for," Hermione flustered, waving her hands in front of her as she blubbered the first lie that came into her head.  _How embarrassing._

 _"_ Sureeee, my bag," Bellatrix smirked, tapping it with the pointer finger of the hand it was held in. "Which happens to be  _down_ here." Her voice was rife with amusement and only flustered Hermione more.

"Oh bugger off," she snapped, as she turned and went down the stairs, her cheeks burning.

Bellatrix chuckled softly behind her and followed her down the stairs. "It's for our wands. Unless you rather we keep them elsewhere?" Hermione made the mistake of looking back on that comment and saw the other witch was gesturing to her cleavage. Hermione's embarrassment only doubled. "I said bugger off!"

They made their way out of the safe house and with a swish and flick of Bella's wand she opened up a portal to where the ball was being held. They walked down a corridor packed with people who were chatting excitedly as they awaited to enter the dance hall.

"From here we split up," Bella leaned and whispered into Hermione's ear. "I'll be keeping my eyes on you so you don't have to worry if you run into trouble. I can't risk giving you the wand now on this mission as he'll be able to sense it." By he, she meant the judge.

"Are you sure the judge will be here?" Hermione asked, tugging nervously on her gloves. Now that the big moment was here she felt uncertain if she could pull it off. What if she messed up?

"He's always here. It's his event. And he'll be the only one here too. The judges don't really hang out with each other. They have their own spheres of influence." Hermione nodded her head as she took this in, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "He'll be the only one not wearing a mask. And before you ask why, it's because he runs this place. He's unaffected by whatever magic is here." Hermione let an amused smile grace her lips. The other knew her proclivity for question asking well.

The two girls had drawn closer to the entrance of the hall and Hermione could hear the waltz music. "I'll see you in a little bit. Good luck." With that Bellatrix separated from Hermione and went into the dance hall first. She was to check the hall for potential threats and enemies and keep watch on Hermione as the brunette up kept her part in this. Watching the other witches back disappear among the other party goers, Hermione rubbed her hands together. She had this. She could do it. She was Gryffindor after all. She still had no idea what that word meant but it gave her comfort and a surge of bravery.

She waited her turn and finally made it to the dance hall. It was enchantingly beautiful inside, a room with yellow and cream colored walls and pillars of light marble that held torches on them. Buffet tables lined the side, filled with the best food one could possibly wish for, and a dizzying array of drinks that simply begged to be tasted. Hermione was magically drawn to them but shook her head, reminding herself of what her goal was. She scanned the crowds, some people were eating, others talking but most dancing in pairs of two to the music. They twirled around in rhythm in some sort of coordinated dance across the dance floor. She couldn't see the judge anywhere. He was the only one not wearing a mask so it shouldn't be too difficult to find him. A figure from the corner of her eye caught her focus and she saw it was Bellatrix, leaning against a pillar and sipping a drink casually. She tipped her head to her left and Hermione followed it, and there, standing on top of a grand pair of stairs was the judge, talking to some woman.

 _Alright, it's time to make a move,_  Hermione thought grimly and made her way to the stairs. Now that she had spotted him, how did she get rid of the other woman in her way? This thought gave her pause when she felt her feet ripped out from underneath her as if someone with a rope had tugged them and she fell face first onto the stairs just a couple of steps from the man with an undignified squeak.  _Well this was just going smoothly,_  she thought sarcastically as shame burned in her stomach. How had she even fallen? She wasn't moving- oh, Bella was so going to get a scolding when Hermione saw her next. The witch had cast a tripping jinx on her!

"My fair maiden, are you alright?" A timbre voice asked and Hermione looked up to see the man had extended a hand to help her up, his attention now on her.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and allowing him to pull her up.

"That was quite a fall you took," he stated, appraising her with gentle eyes. "You're not hurt are you?" From closer up Hermione could see how stunning the man looked. He was wearing a tight red suit, the collar of his white shirt open to reveal a toned expanse of chest. He had long brown hair whose hair tips tickled the length of his jaw and impeccable facial features with green gold eyes that just pulled her in. She shook her head before she let the sensation of falling into them pull her along any further. What had Bellatrix said to do? To lure him away to separate room? Could she do it? She didn't know how to flirt with someone much less seduce them! Why couldn't Bella have just done this? She certainly fit the role of a seductress better.

_"I can't be the one to do it. He'll suspect me before I get the key. I'm too popular for my own good." She had winked at this. "But if I stay out of the way and just watch I'm sure they'll pay me no mind and I'll be able to keep you safe while you do the key stealing. They'll never suspect you. You're not that high on their shit list."_

That's right. That's what Bella had said. Hermione gave a pained grimace.

"I think I've twisted my ankle. May I trouble you for your assistance in sitting down somewhere and looking it over?" Hermione pouted and looked up through her lashes like the dark witch had instructed her in their mini impromptu lesson on seduction before they had headed out.

_"Lean against him. Let him know you're helpless and weak and reliant on him. He fancies himself a lady killer. I'm pretty sure it won't be long before he decides he can conquer you and add you to his list of bedded ladies." Hermione had scowled at the way Bellatrix had put it._

_"What? It's true. Don't be offended." The witch had shrugged and moved on to teaching Hermione something else._

Hermione leaned heavily against him, making sure her chest pressed against his side, and clutched his hand with her's as his free arm came to circle her shoulders. "My apologizes," he cast a look at the other woman he had been entertaining before. "But my good graces would not allow me to leave a injured lady to be." The woman didn't look too pleased Hermione was stealing the judge away but there was nothing she could do now. She nodded her head tightly and went down the stairs.

"I'm afraid I am troubling you," Hermione sniffed, sounding forlorn. "I did not mean to interrupt your pleasant evening." They made their way slowly up the stairs, Hermione faking a limp on her right leg.

"You did nothing of the sort. As I said before, it is my duty to help a fair maiden like you who has been hurt."

"I only hope my company will be enough to make up for this little mishap in the smoothness of your night." Hermione felt a sweat drop roll down her back. What else was she to say now? Was Bella even following her? She cast a furtive glance behind her and saw the witch was now ascending the stairs behind them, attempting to act as casual as she could about it.

The man chuckled, a deep rich thing. "Your company is enough for me. You are a delightful young lady." They had made it to a seat cushion in a corridor off to the side. She sat down on it and twisted her ankle experimentally, a fake look of consideration on her face as she tested it out.

"Shall I check for you?" he offered and Hermione's head shot up to look at him. He had a charming grin on his face. "My good sir-"

"You can call me Dorian," he interjected smoothly, holding out a hand to pause her words before he knelt in front on her on one extended knee and took her ankle between his strong hands. "And it is not beneath me to check a fair maiden's foot if she is in pain." He rolled the foot back and forth, left and right, casting minute gazes at her face with each motion to determine if it hurt her or not.

"I think it is fine," Hermione said, batting her lashes at him. "Your touch has made it all the better." A cocky smile broke out on his face at hearing this.

"I have heard my touch makes a great many things better." The way he said the words caused a shiver to run down the brunette's back. Oh, he was definitely flirting with her. Could she prod him just a bit further?

"Such as? Forgive me if I require further evidence," Hermione said playfully, feeling a bit ill. She hated the thought of being alone in a room with him and having to do this next part but she took comfort in the knowledge her friend would be close by. He stood up, offering her his hand and she saw a glimpse of the key as it slide around his neck before hiding underneath his shirt again. It was small, gold and simple. Was it really the one they needed?

She took his hand and he lead her down further to a room. He pushed it open and then closed it shut behind him. The room was decked all in red and Hermione avoided making eye contact with the bed. Instead she tried her best to smile at him demurely as he slowly approached her, his eyes taking her in. She was sort of surprised how easily this was going. She had been expecting it to be a bit harder honestly.

He grabbed her hands and she was unable to hide the small tremors that went through them. "You are nervous?" he whispered, green gold eyes peering at her in concern, gaze then hovering over her lips suggestively.

Hermione knew she would have to kiss Dorian to make this work. In all honesty she didn't know if she would successful. She hadn't ever kissed someone before. She knew it to be true despite the lapse of her memories. When she had told the dark witch this she had merely laughed.

_"Ha!" She cackled with much more vigor than was necessary. "You don't know how to kiss?"_

_"No, I don't okay," Hermione hissed in embarrassment, clenching her hands as her cheeks flushed. "I guess I never had the opportunity to!"_

_"Well we can't have you going over and seducing Dorian without ever having kissed anyone before."_

_"So how am I going to learn?" Hermione asked, casting the dark witch a gaze as she paced around the room they were in._

_"Don't look at me like that," she sneered and grabbed a pillow off of the armchair. "Here, practice on this pillow." She waved her wand and tossed the now changed object into Hermione's lap. She picked it up curiously and let out a little 'eep!' before throwing it across the room. The pillow had a vague human face, indents for its eyes and mouth, and it made kissing motions at her._

_The object collided with a vase on a shelf and knocked it to the floor. Bellatrix tsked as she waved her wand and cleaned up the little mess. "You don't need to throw things like a little brat. I'm only trying to help."_

_"I am not kissing that, that thing!" Hermione said, pointing accusingly at the pillow which was still producing kissing noises. Bellatrix picked it up, admired it and showed it to Hermione who shrunk back in her seat on the blue couch as if the sight of the pillow physically hurt her. "It's kinda cute, I don't see why you don't wanna kiss it," the dark witch said._

_"Why don't you kiss it, if you're so fond of it," Hermione countered and the dark witch gave a short laugh. "I'm not the one with no kissing experience." She gave the pillow a thoughtful look. "I suppose you can go with the innocent act. Tell him it's your first time. That'll really get him going."_

_Hermione frowned in disgust at this. It was either that or the pillow._

"Only a little. I only wish to please you well Dorian," she said, biting her lip in what she hoped would come off as a playful gesture as she swayed gently from side to side, hands demurely hidden behind her back. He smirked at this and lifted her chin up with one hand so she could look up higher at him.

"I'm sure you will not fail." And then he kissed her. His lips were soft and skilled but failed to elicit any genuine feelings in Hermione. Pretending to be engrossed in his mouth, she ran her hands over his chest, her thumbs just brushing against the cold steel of the key. He chuckled into her mouth at that and pulled away, pinning her hands to where they were still on his chest. His eyes had grown darker. Was he going to comment on the key? "Eager, aren't we?" he poised and Hermione covered up her tenseness with a laugh. So he didn't suspect her yet.

"You could say that. It is my first time after all. Please be gentle with me," she pleaded looking up through her lashes at him. There was no way she would have kissed that pillow. She was going to play the innocent girl and hoped her first kiss hadn't been too awkward. She must have done well because she could see his face light up with some sort of satisfaction.

"Don't worry, I always take care of my ladies." He gestured to the bed. "Make yourself comfortable." Hermione gulped and nodded her head. Holy shit, things were escalating in the direction she didn't want them to, although missions wise it was all going super smoothly. She sat down, every step closer to the bed having made her heart race faster. Dorian took his time taking of his suit, and his shirt, leaving his toned top half on display. The key still hung around his neck, glimmering in the glow of the candlelight. How was she to take it off? Could she, without him noticing? But that was some strong looking chain.

He strode over to her, before he gently pushed her to the covers and hovered over her, his eyes taking her in greedily. "Should I take off my mask?" she asked not knowing what to do in this tense moment, as his eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. A sad smile played on his lips. "Sadly you cannot, but I will never forget the taste of your lips, so you need have no worry that I will not remember you tomorrow or the day after."

Hermione didn't really care for that and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Dorian brought his lips closer to her's and they kissed again, his hands roaming up and down her sides. She did the same to him, running her hands all over his back and up to his neck, trying to find the necklace's clasp. Where was it?! She didn't know how much longer she could keep this charade going before she couldn't take it anymore. She felt like she was suffocating on his lips.

He pulled his mouth from her but not far, his breath brushing her mouth as he spoke. "You seem fascinated with my necklace."

"A-apologizes," Hermione stuttered, caught off guard. "It merely is in the way of my exploration of your body." He sat up, hands coming to the back of his neck and with deft motions unclasped it and tossed it to a desk drawer next to Hermione's head. "Is that better?"

"Yes, much," she whispered as he hovered over her once more. Again they kissed and she could feel him searching her sides this time-but for a zipper. "Let me undress myself," she insisted. "It'll be easier since I know where the zipper is." Dorian paused at this and her heart pounded in wonder of what he would say. Something flashed in his eyes, too quickly to decipher, before he finally gave an answer.

"Very well," he sat up once more and moved off the bed, allowing Hermione to slide off the side where the night dresser with his key was. He watched her with eager eyes, but that was what she didn't want.

"Could I ask for a bit of privacy? I want to surprise you with-" she gestured to her body and he got the message.

"You are an odd one. The first woman I've met who insists on undressing herself." He smiled but complied with what she said. He turned to face the wall and as silently as she could Hermione grabbed the key off the desk and making sure it was securely hidden inside her bra, she made light conversation as she slowly edged to the door, her gaze on him.

"Can you guess what color my under garments are?"

"White, I would hazard. There's only three colors here. And white is the one you deserve." Hermione paused in her movements, her body mere inches away from the door and to freedom, but her mind was no longer on escape like it had been for the whole duration of this scene, but on finding out what else he had to say.

"White? Why am I white?"

"Each color signifies a persons accomplishments in their life, and because of what you've done you deserve white," he explained vaguely, his back still to her and hands raising as he gesticulated.

"Is white a good color? I know it stands for purity so then-"

"Hermione, you ask as many questions as you did before." His utterance of her name froze her. She didn't recall ever telling him her name during this night. "And here I thought you'd changed during your time in the prisons. But I can see Bellatrix has gotten her evil claws into your mind and further corrupted you. I had such hope that you'd seen the sense of things and would just follow the rules of this place obediently." He turned around to face her, his lips hard. "Hermione, you hold so much potential. You have the chance to achieve the greatest of glories, if only," he took a step forward, "you wait," two steps forward, "patiently to be judged." And now he was in front of her, towering over her, his eyes no longer green gold but black.

"All you have to do is hand over the key right now, and I'll forget all about this. I won't send you into a fiery pit of doom." He held out his hand, waiting for his key. Hermione clutched her hands to her chest, his sickly sweet promises poisoning her mind. His voice was telling her to give in, but her heart told her to ignore it.

"I-" She didn't get to finish that thought as the door to her right suddenly exploded into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Bella," Hermione breathed out the same time Dorian cried out, "Bellatrix!" The dark witch strode into the room, her dress missing pieces of fabric, but otherwise unscathed. Her wand was out and without a second to spare she flung a curse over Hermione's head at Dorian, sending him crashing into the wall across the room.

"Do you have the key?" she asked, eyes searching Hermione. The girl pulled the key chain out to show proof before tucking it back in. "Good." Bella nodded her head curtly. "Now we get the fuck out of here."

"Bellatrix!" Dorian bellowed with the strength of a crowd of pissed of men. He stood up, his skin caked with wall plaster. His muscles rippled and his eyes had turned completely dark, two bumps on his forehead rising and bubbling, whatever was underneath them straining to free itself. "Go, go!" Bellatrix hastily cried, grabbing Hermione by her shoulder with one hand and pushing her out the doorway behind her.

"But what about-?" Hermione couldn't stand to leave her friend behind.

"I'm coming I promise!  _Confrigo!_ " Dorian exploded into flames as Bellatrix directed the spell on him. With that she turned on her heel, knowing she hadn't really hurt him just succeeded in pissing him off more. "Run!" she ordered and Hermione, who had dawdled as she waited for her friend, took to her feet, lifting up her dress to maneuver more easily. "Take this," Bellatrix tossed her her wand and Hermione grasped it, feeling more protected already.

"What took you so long?" she asked as they raced down the stairs, pushing past confused people.

"I got held up by some of his guards. I think he knew who we were from the start. But we got the key, that's all that matters."

"Bellatrix!" Dorian's roar was more monster than man by now and when Hermione hazarded a look back she saw him at the top of the stairs. His skin had blackened from Bella's conflagration, his pants tatters around his legs, and two massive curling horns adorned his forehead.

"He is so mad~" Bellatrix sang as his guards came from were they had been stationed against the wall the whole night. They wore powdered wigs, cream colored old fashioned outfits in the style of French guards during the 18th century, and carried battle axes. They were no match for Bellatrix's spells, as she shot them off left and right all the while charging towards the exit, Hermione blasting one or two of her own jinx's off. Patrons of the hotel ran to avoid the fighting, some cowering behind the tables of food. Bellatrix sent one of the guards into a bowl of fruit punch and a woman who had hidden behind it screamed as he toppled it over and spilled the juice on her.

"Your wish to escape this place is futile. No one desires to see you where it is you intend to go. No one loves you!" Dorian's cries rang around the hall. "Give up your hopes now!"

"How about you fuck off?" She snarled back, lifting up a guard with one of her spells and flinging it right at him. He batted the poor guard away without consideration from him and the man hit the pillar by the stairs, blood pooling around his head.

"Bella, we have to go," Hermione tugged on the woman's sleeves as the dark haired witch engaged in a heated glaring competition with Dorian. More guards were pouring out from secret crevices and the balconies of this place.

"You know it's true Bella," Dorian whispered yet the words carried over the music and pierced her heart. Was it...true what he spoke? Was her quest foolish?

"Bella!" Hermione's cry brought her out of her confused thoughts and she shook her head to ground herself. This man was just messing with her head. Trying to make her falter and give up. Well, she wouldn't. She shot him a two finger gesture and then turned on her heel. The two girls left the chaos of the dance hall behind not stopping until they had reached their safe house. There they collapsed tiredly on the sofa. Hermione's heart was still pounding and adrenaline coursed through her veins. She couldn't believe that they had done it, but they had! They were one step closer to their plans succeeding!

She pulled the key out from her chest and it glinted in the lights of the room, looking amazingly like freedom right now. "One out of three," Bellatrix breathed as she looked at it, her hopeful expression reflecting in the pure gold.

**A/N: The masks in this story are a symbol. They obviously hide the person's true identity and their true intentions but also are a life source for the people in this hotel. Thus they die when they remove it because where they are right now, anonymity is everything and once their true self is revealed they regain their memories and regaining one's memories dooms them and they can no longer exist in the hotel because they no longer belong to this world. Is this understandable or is it still convoluted? I can't say too much without revealing the other secrets. I promise I'll have an explanation at the end of the series to clear everything up if it is needed.**

* * *

**Outtake: Practice for Dorian**

**A/N: So originally this scene was supposed to be in this chapter, but I felt like it would be slightly out of place and therefore decided to take it out. It's literally the long version of something that was included in the official chapter and I decided in the end that I didn't want to waste what I had written, so I included it at the end of the chapter. Leave me any thoughts if you have some on this scene telling me if it would have been too soon to include this in the story line or if it was fine.**

"Ha!" She cackled with much more vigor than was necessary. "You don't know how to kiss?"

"No, I don't okay," Hermione hissed in embarrassment, clenching her hands as her cheeks flushed. "I guess I never had the opportunity to!"

"Well we can't have you going over and seducing Dorian without ever having kissed anyone before."

"So how am I going to learn?" Hermione asked, casting a gaze at the dark witch who paced around the room they were in.

"Don't look at me like that," she sneered and grabbed a pillow off of the armchair. "Here, practice on this pillow." She waved her wand and tossed the now changed pillow into Hermione's lap. She picked it up curiously and let out a little 'eep!' before tossing it across the room. The pillow had a face on it that made kissing faces at her.

The object collided with a vase on a shelf and knocked it to the floor. Bellatrix tsked as she waved her wand and cleaned up the little mess. "You don't need to throw things like a little brat. I'm only trying to help."

"I am not kissing that, that thing!" Hermione sputtered, pointing accusingly at the pillow which was still producing kissing noises. Bellatrix picked it up, admired it and showed it to Hermione who shrunk back in her seat on the blue couch. "It's kinda cute, I don't see why you don't wanna kiss it," the dark witch said.

"Why don't you kiss it, if you're so fond of it," Hermione countered and the dark witch gave a short laugh. "I'm not the one with no kissing experience." She gave the pillow a thoughtful look before setting it down behind her. "I suppose you can go with the innocent act. Tell him it's your first time. That'll really get him going."

Hermione frowned in disgust at this. It was either that or the pillow. "Well what if told you, I refuse to do either." She crossed her arms over her chest .

"You can't be serious," Bellatrix uttered in disbelief. "Do you not want to escape?"

"I do."

"Then why are you being so difficult?"

"Because, because I don't and won't know how to seduce him properly. It'll be a failure," Hermione flushed as she admitted this. Bellatrix smacked her forehead and spoke through gritted teeth. "And why exactly would we be doing all this," she raised her arms to indicate what they had been doing in the room, "all evening long if I wasn't training you to seduce him?"

"I know what we've been doing all evening long. It's just hard to visualize all of it or fully grasp the concepts you're teaching if I don't have an actual representation," Hermione explained.

"And what do you expect me to do? Have the judge just waltz in here for you to practice on?" Bellatrix snapped, her wand twirling in her fingers. "Don't be absurd."

"I don't want him. I just need...something physical to project my actions on. Like a dummy to practice on," Hermione hesitantly voiced.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" Bellatrix huffed and with a whoosh a life like dummy of a man plopped down next to the couch by Hermione, complete with clothes, a skin tone and goofy smile painted on his lifeless face. "There, practice to your heart's content, you annoying little brat."

"I will," sniffed Hermione. "No need to be so rude about all of this." But even with the help of the dummy things did not go smoothly. Hermione felt awkward talking to an inanimate object, and having Bella watching her like a hawk, dissecting and directing every one of her motions was no help. "Too weak of a pout, you need to stick out that bottom lip like you mean it! You call that clinging to him? It looks like you're pushing him away. You have to hold onto him like as if he were a lifeline. Push your boobs more into his chest. Come on, I know you don't have much to work with but pretend like you do." Hermione shot a hurt look at the older witch at this, her cheeks pink. "What?" Bellatrix barked, her brows high. "Don't tell me you're going to get offended by that. It's the truth."

"I know it is," Hermione said in a small voice. "You don't have to rub it into my face." Then with a sigh, "Bellatrix, I don't think this is working."

"No shit," Bellatrix shot back. "You're stiffer than the dummy."

"I don't think I can practice on it. It's weird. Do you think you can like reanimate it or something?" Hermione asked, afraid of the anger that flared in the other witch's eyes. "Why don't I just fucking summon the judge here and get it over myself?" She began to stalk towards Hermione who felt tempted to shrink into the couch. "I don't know how to do a reanimation spell. I would have done it already if I did. I don't have anymore time for this! Just watch and learn."

The dark witch plopped down on the other side of the dummy. Instantly she began to cuddle up to it, cooing sugared and suggestive words as her hand came up to stroke the side of the dummy's face. Watching this Hermione couldn't help but laugh. She tried to hold it in but it bubbled out, her hand coming up to cover her mouth and holding in the noise but failing to do so.

"What?" the irritated witch snapped as Hermione continued chuckling.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just you look so ridiculous trying to make out with the dummy."

The dark witch's cheeks flushed slightly and she shot up, grabbing Hermione roughly by the front of her shirt and off the couch by a couple of inches. "It's not funny. This is a serious matter," she said, trying to come off as menacing as possible but the brunette only laughed harder. "Oh I'm so~ sorry Mr. Judge for bothering you but could you check on my heart please? I think it's beating a bit too quickly in your presence," Hermione snickered, mocking the lines Bellatrix had used, as she ran a hand down the others face. The dark haired witch couldn't take the mocking anymore.  _I'll show her for laughing at me!_

Without warning Bellatrix tossed Hermione onto the couch, and she let out a gasp as she sprawled across the full length of it, her leg kicking the dummy to the floor. She didn't have a chance to sit up because Bellatrix was suddenly hovering over her, one hand on the arm rest above Hermione's head, one knee propped up on the couch between the brunette's legs and the other one supportively planted to the floor. Her figure blocked out the light of the room, her raven curls trickling down, the edges of them tickling Hermione's cheek as she leaned closer, her lips in a sneer.

"Well Mr. Judge," she husked, her voice smooth and silky. Hermione was quiet, her eyes wide and watching the older woman's actions. Bellatrix's free hand began to slide up from the bottom of Hermione's shirt upwards, deliciously slowly as the older witch never broke eye contact. "I saw you standing across the room and I just couldn't resist myself. I knew with one glimpse that I needed you." Her voice dipped lower on this as her hand slide up between the valley of Hermione's breasts.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat and the dark witch smirked, silent for a moment before she lowered her mouth to Hermione's ear. "So allow me the pleasure of your company for tonight," she purred, her hand coming up to Hermione's throat and grabbing it, pretending the key was there. The quick squeeze startled the brunette and she let out a choked gasp. The dark witch leaned back after this, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "And that is how you seduce someone and get the key," she confidently stated and then her presence was gone, across the room already and twiddling with her wand. Hermione slowly sat up, her heart pounding in her chest and feeling like her hair was messy.  _What was that?_

"And that my dearie is what you need to do," Bellatrix's voice was back to it's regular pitch and tone, sharp and caustic. "Now hurry up it's time to get dressed. We haven't much time until the ball." And with that she was gone up the stairs leaving a still speechless Hermione wondering what the fuck just happened as her heart still pounded away in her chest.


	9. Devil's Court

* * *

_God's truth judges created things out of love, and Satan's truth judges them out of envy and hatred- Dietrich Bonhoeffer_

* * *

"Hermione, Hermione! Can you hear me?" a voice called out in the dark to the brunette and she searched wildly for where the voice was coming from. She was standing in an all black space, such heavy darkness falling on her that she could feel it pushing down on her skin.

"What? What is it? Whose calling me? Is that you Bella?" Hermione asked, her voice muffled by the heavy dark. But the voice didn't hear her. It spoke again, ignorant of her cries.

"Hermione, we know you're strong. So please come back to us." It was a masculine voice, definitely not Bellatrix, so then who was calling to her? It sounded awfully familiar too, but she couldn't tell why.

"Please we need you. We can't go on like this." This was also a masculine voice but different in pitch, a bit more whiny and from the sound of it, close to tears. Who were these voices? And why did they know her? She span around hoping to get a glimpse of who was speaking but only darkness greeted her, the voices echoing around her pleadingly.

Then a third voice, containing the wisdom of a thousand men and more steady than the others, confident in her, spoke up. "Hermione. It is not your time to depart from this world. Come to us. I know you are strong enough to do so on your own."

 _Not my time to depart from this world?_  What was the voice going on about? Was he warning her to stay at this hotel?

"Wait. I have so many questions!" But the voices had already silenced and she was left alone in the dark.

Hermione awoke, beads of sweat rolling down her face. Was that a dream...? She stared at her surroundings. She was back in her room in Bellatrix's house so she hadn't left anywhere, but it was odd what she had just experienced. Never before had she had a dream in this place. Always it was blissful darkness when she went to bed, but this time it had been different. She needed to consult Bellatrix on this.

Hermione dressed quickly and rushed down the stairs, finding the dark witch watching the fire in the hearth and sipping her tea, lost to her inner thoughts. Her gaze redirected to Hermione as the young witch noisily bounded down the stairs.

"It seems someone has a lot of energy today," she commented casually, taking another sip.

"Bellatrix, I have something to ask you," Hermione announced, plopping down in the chair across from the dark witch. "Of course you do," she muttered darkly. "What is it now? Is it about the second key because I already told you we're waiting until it's safe to go back out again."

After they had removed the key from the first judge Bellatrix had ventured out to see how things were holding up outside. She hadn't been out for more than five minutes when she had come rushing back in, breathing harshly as she slammed the door closed behind her and pressed her back to it until she calmed down. "It's not safe. The hotel is in an uproar. They'll kill us if we go out now." And that had put a hold on their plan for retrieving the second key. It had been roughly two weeks since Bella had gone out and in the meantime they waited, with nothing better to do than to train with magic until the first judge's anger shimmered down. Hermione had found that there was more than attack and defensive magic and she had taken to magicking objects in their house to floating around, to changing form and she had even recalled a couple of healing spells when the older witch had cut herself on a knife while making food. It turned out the other witch didn't know how to heal herself and no matter how Hermione tried to instill the knowledge in her, the witch had serious troubles. Hermione put the burning question of why? out of her mind and moved on, feeling it was better not to push the witch on matters of the past.

Hermione had asked her several times throughout their stay in the house, but Bellatrix looked increasingly angry and uncomfortable by Hermione's inquisitions so the brunette had dropped the topic and went back to pondering over what exactly this place was. And that was what she had been doing up to previously.

"No, this isn't about the key, it's about a dream I had."

"A dream?" Bellatrix frowned over her cup of tea.

"I know. It's weird. I've never had a dream here before." Hermione quickly recounted her dream to the other witch whose frown only deepened.

"My opinion on this matter is that the hotel must be playing tricks on you again. Since they couldn't get to you physically their trying to mentally. They said that it wasn't your time to leave this place, clearly it seems like they are trying to dissuade you from escaping. And you said there were three voices. There are also three judges."

Hermione humph-ed. She hadn't considered that before. She couldn't recall Dorian's voice sounding like any of the ones in her dreams had, but then again one of them had seemed familiar to her, so it could be his. "So I ignore it?"

"Precisely," the witch lifted her finger in exclamation of this.

Hermione didn't entirely feel comfortable leaving it be, but if Bellatrix wasn't going to dwell more on it, or offer more words to clear the matter up then there was no point in pursuing it. If the dreams continued then she would become worried. As of now the judges would have to try harder than that to persuade her to stop trying to break free.

With nothing else to talk about the two witches lapsed into silence. Deciding to do something to stave off boredom, Hermione went and made herself something to eat. "Did you eat already?" she tossed back to the witch as she flipped the pancake on her pan.

"Yes, but whatever it is you're making smells absolutely delicious and I think I might just have to have some of it." Hermione smiled at the other witch's honest answer. The older witch wasn't as proficient in cooking as Hermione was for some reason and she wondered if this was because Bellatrix had been royalty or something; she certainly carried herself like one. Usually princesses and princes would have servants prepare their food for them.

When she was finished with the food she plopped two plates down for them on the dining table. "What are we doing today?" Hermione asked as they set to work on eating the food.

"Training with magic. As usual." Bellatrix had drowned her pancakes in syrup and Hermione eyed them disapprovingly. "You'll get ill if you put so much sugar on them."

"Nonsense. A little sugar never hurt anyone," the witch haughtily responded, stirring her pancakes into the syrup and making sure they were completely soaking in it. For some reason the witch loved sugar, especially chocolate. The brown sweets made her feel warm when her body was overcome with a inexplicable chill, one that brought screams of pain and fear into her mind, images of ghostly beings cloaked in black rushing through her head. These moments never lasted long but when the came they frightened Bellatrix to the core. Did the other witch get these too, or was it just her? Bellatrix blamed the judges for it. They must have done this to her.

"That's not a little, that's a lot. You'll get cavities at this point and there's no dentist around here to help you pull them out."

Bellatrix's fork paused in it's journey to her mouth. "What's a dentist?"

"You don't know what a dentist is?" How did one not know what a dentist was?

Bellatrix shook her head, taking a bite and putting her fork down.

"It's a person who checks your teeth to make sure their healthy. And if your teeth aren't healthy then they pull them out," Hermione said, in a manner of a parent explaining to a child they couldn't do something.

"How utterly barbaric! I'd just use magic if my teeth hurt."

"It's not barbaric!" Hermione rose to the defense of dentist's, not knowing quite why she felt so defensive of this practice. She then went on a spiel of how dentists procedures were entirely humane and beneficial to their patients. Bellatrix mainly gave off an air of disinterest as she finished up her food.

"Magic is still better," she sang when Hermione had finally finished.

"It is not!" The brunette shot back. Bellatrix waved a hand dismissively over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen to wash the dishes. "You might want to eat your food before it turns to complete ice on your plate."

Hermione looked down to see her forgotten pancakes were now cold. Frowning she used her wand to reheat them.

* * *

"So, it's safe to go now?"

"Yes," Bellatrix hissed, urging the younger witch to shut up. "It's been roughly what, four weeks by now? I've lost patience to wait any longer and I'm sure they've given up looking for us now." Last time the dark witch had been out staff had been running back and forth in the halls, up and down the stairs; the whole place was literally crawling with them. And Dorian the judge, well, his wrath had certainly been visible. The hotel had shaken to its very foundation as he let out roars of anger and frustration as yet another staff member came back with news of failure in capturing the two girls.

This time, the hotel was calm and quiet. She knew they would still have to be careful to not draw his attention but not as careful as before. "Follow me," she instructed to Hermione and the two of them pressed on, using spells to open up multiple portals in the walls to send them to their destination. They made their way to a giant courthouse, set in an outside garden. It was the first time Hermione had been outside in a long time and she sighed in content as the warm rays alighted on her skin. The garden they were in had high walls made of shrubbery that trapped the guests inside it into a neat rectangle. Hermione briefly contemplated if it was possible to burn a hole through the shrubs and make their way out. Surely it would be easier than the task they had set forth for themselves.

Bellatrix, as if sensing Hermione's thoughts, shook her head no. "I've already tried, pet. Nothing on the other side but fields of flowers. And a strong spell that prevents me from even stepping foot past the shrubs once I burn them."

They made their way casually past patrons who were sipping drinks and chatting with one another as they observed the nice weather and the topiaries in the shapes of various animals and mystical shapes that interspersed the garden they were in. At the end was the giant courthouse, an imposing building of stone with high pillars coming up to support the entrance. The black dome gleamed menacingly in the sun.

This was the courthouse where the judges made their rulings on the patrons of this world. Only one would go up at a time, each judge having a set time period for when they would be in session. What they judged people for, no one knew, but the wait to get in was long and no one was certain if they were to be judged next. The only way one could enter was if they were going to be the judged. Those who were selected were given a special card for it with the date of their appointed time on it. Bellatrix had managed to snag two such cards, knocking out the real people whose places they were taking before tying them up. The two girls had glamoured their appearance to match the individuals on the cards and left for their appointed court date. Bellatrix was a stout old witch with streaks of gray in her black hair and a perpetually upset face whereas Hermione was a small mousy old woman whose gray locks had been pinned in a bun.

Hermione clutched her card, feeling sweat gather on her palms. She felt nervous. What if they failed in this? What if their glamour failed them? She took comfort in the fact that her wand was hidden in her bra and that Bellatrix would be here to help her as well. They walked up the stairs, two guards with ripped muscles and stern faces greeting them.

"Cards," they ordered in unison, coming to block the entrance as if Hermione wanted to run in there. Nope, she wanted to run the opposite way. She couldn't see anything past the entrance, it was just pitch black, none of the outside light penetrating in. She could feel a cold chill emitting from the doorway and held in a shiver. She and Bellatrix both held out their cards. The guards gave them a once over and moved to the side, satisfied with what they saw.

"Best of luck," one of them said and the other smiled foreboding before adding, "You'll need it where you're heading."

"Don't worry we'll be fine," Bellatrix tried to reassure the younger witch, squeezing her hand as they stepped into the building. Instantly all sounds of the outside faded away, replaced by only an eerie silence and the noise of their heels moving hurriedly on the stone cobbles. The inside wasn't as dark as Hermione thought it would be. In fact, there was a lot of light coming in from large high up windows that were illustrated with stained glass depicting scenes of a man with a cross and men with wings and halos and men with tails and horns doing various arduous tasks.

The window in the back was divided into three panels, each with one man on it. On the left was a man with a tail, horns and red skin, his hands clenched in front of his chest. His face was distorted in evil delight, a snaked tongue slipping out from his opened mouth, yet his face closely resembled that of Dorian's even if his eyes were black in this depiction. His eyes seemed to follow the two girls as they crossed closer to the court room in the middle of the building.

The man in the middle was older looking, his skin a normal tone, and he was balding, tufts of white hair decorating his round head. He was smiling, his grin stretching his fat face and he held two pudgy hands out to his sides as if extending them to the figures on his right and his left.

The last figure had blue skin and was unnaturally thin, a yellow ring around their head and white dove wings curling all the way down to his bare feet. His hands were at the sides of his white robes, one clutching a feather quill and the other a scroll. He was turned away from the fat man's hand, looking up at something in the distance.

"Are those the three judges?" Hermione whispered, her heart pounding in fear. Being in here made her feel small and exposed. She didn't like it.

Bellatrix nodded her head, her face tight. Even she was affected by the aura of this place. "Yes." She didn't elaborate on this.

"I see the accused have come to stand judged," a jovial and booming voice echoed across the court. The judge, the man who had been on the middle panel, stood up from the judges podium, a smile on his face. "You both came a bit early but that's fine I suppose. Have no other choice but to accept you now that you've come here." The two girls exchanged a confused look at this but remained quiet. There was no time in this place so how could they be early? "Come closer. I won't bite." He gestured with his large hand for the girls to come closer and they did but hesitantly.

"Lovely day outside, innit?" he casually spoke as he sat back down, his judge robes swishing down around him. He picked up his gavel and pointed it at Bellatrix without waiting for her respond. "I'll judge you first. Step forward into the booth." He indicated for her to come to the defendants box. Bellatrix shot Hermione a look from the corner of her eye but didn't say anything.

"Now, let's see what you're here for..." he mumbled to himself as Bellatrix took her spot at the podium that was for her, below the judge. He rifled through some papers, having put on half moon spectacles to read through them. Hermione stayed where she was, uncertain of what she should do. Did she just stand here?

"Oh, you can make yourself comfortable over there," the judge picked up his head, noticing Hermione's dawdling. Hermione nodded her head and sat down in the jury's booth, wondering why the man wanted her to sit here.

Humming to himself and giving the papers a last look he tossed them to the side, took off his spectacles and banged his gavel. "Court is in session." On his words the court filled with people that seemed to appear out of thin air. There was a full audience of masked folks, no doubt patrons of the hotel. The jury box where Hermione was seated was filled as well, although not all the people here wore masks. Some were mask-less, and completely gray, their faces scrunched up in pain or anger. A strong chill emitted from them and Hermione shuffled back to her end of the box, hating the way her teeth chattered, and shot them a confused glare. One of the unmasked noticed and bared his teeth at her. "What you looking at?" He had a thick Irish accent.

"Nothing," Hermione mumbled and averted her gaze.

There was a lawyer standing by Bellatrix's side, having set up his briefcase on the table next to her.

"What is the meaning of this?" Bellatrix snarled and rattled the chains around her wrists. As soon as the judge had banged his gavel they had appeared and pinned her wrists painfully to the table top. She couldn't move them to reach for her wand or to even move to leave if she wanted to.

"You're being judged. I can't risk having you escape," he explained. "Will Justice bring the scales?" A blindfolded woman exited from a set of double doors by the jury's box. She was carrying a heavy gold scale in her hands. She placed it in the table in between Bellatrix and the judge.

"What is that?" the black haired witch asked, trying hard not to panic. She had to have faith in the plan working. How she had devised it was that she would undergo the trial as the person she was mimicking, to lull the man into a sense of false security but before she could be even fully judged she would knock the judge out with Hermione's help and then they would grab the keys and escape. She hadn't know she would be shackled and that there would be other people here. She supposed that was the risk of entering into a judge's domain.

"It is what we use to weight your heart against your decisions in life."

"What?" Bellatrix barked out as the blindfolded Justice approached her and stuck her hand into her chest. Bella's fingers clawed at the desk surface as she pulled uselessly on the chains in reflexive reaction to getting those hands digging in her chest out. By Merlin's beard did this hurt! She held in a scream as the Justice calmly continued what she was doing before pulling out her heart. Bella felt a bit faint as her organ, red and still beating, was carried over to the scale and placed on it.

"No!" Hermione screamed as she watched this. This wasn't part of the plan!

"Silence in the jury," the judge banged his gavel and Hermione was forced down to her seat by some force of power, unable to rise again. Frantic eyes met Bella's who were barely restraining the fear she felt. Her chest was missing the tell tale thump of her heart and the hole were it had been ripped out of her chest remained, bleeding down her sides. She felt like she was about to be sick and she looked away. So now, not only did they have to get the key, but they also had to get her heart back.

"The feather of truth," the judge instructed and Justice, her hands still coated in Bellatrix's blood, pulled out a feather from her robes silently. She held it up, let the light catch it. The feather glowed brightly for a few seconds, washing the courts in white light before it dimmed down. "This feather is what will determine your fate. If your heart is heavier than it, only damnation awaits you. If your heart is equal with it then you remain here for the rest of your days. And if it is lighter than the feather, you will ascend. The feather is the accumulation of all that should be proper and expected in a mortal being." The feather was put on the scale. Neither side moved. They were equal for now. Did that mean Bellatrix was to be doomed here forever?

"For now the scales are even," the judge continued. "But the weight of the heart shall change depending on the words that the jury shall speak." The jury? Was Hermione expected to speak up as well? But wasn't she here to be judged herself as well, then why would she be participating in someone elses trial?

"Do I have no say in this?" Bellatrix asked, pulling on her chains in hopes they had loosened somehow. They hadn't.

"You have a lawyer, a man who will justify your actions. For example, if there had been an uncontrollable circumstance for these actions, like self defense or being a victim of one's upbringing, then it shall be considered. And the feather will adjust its weight accordingly to that." The judge banged his gravel down. "Will the first of the abused come forth." The man on the other end of Hermione's jury box stood up and took his place on the witness stand.

"She killed muggles, who she viewed as dirt beneath her feet." There was a loud swish as the scales tipped, the heart dropping down. Bella's eyes opened wide. Holy shit, she didn't know what a muggle was, but killing them seemed to be a very bad thing.

"The defendant, do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, she does," Bella's lawyer smoothly spoke up, adjusting his tie and pacing around the court room, addressing the silent audience of masked members. "She only did it because it was how she had been raised. As a young child a hatred of muggles was instilled in her and she did not know better than to dispute this ideology that her family had followed and practiced for centuries."

The judge banged his gavel. "Rebuttal accepted." The heart went back up, but it was still not even with the feather. The lawyer smiled, relieved that the judge had accepted his words.

"Next."

Another person from the jurors box stood up and took the previous person's place on the witness stand. "She killed my father in cold blood!" The heart went back down.

"An order from the dark lord. She couldn't resist it. She was unwaveringly loyal to him because of how he had taken advantage of her weaknesses and molded her into a maniac that would kill and maim for him on a dime." The heart went back up.

"Next!"

"She tortured my family into the point of insanity!"

"She was tortured in Azkaban for 14 years!"

"Next!"

And the cycle continued this way, a whirl of accusations, rebuttals, banging of the gravel and ups and downs on the scale. Hermione's head was spinning. What was going on here? What did she do? She exchanged a look with Bellatrix, needing a signal from her on what to do but the dark witch was in her own world, her eyes elsewhere even as she stared at the scale. Hermione wanted to tell the older witch to snap out of it. It wasn't the real them on trial just some other women.

"And our final witness." Hermione felt her body move on its own and with wide eyes she watched herself crawl into the witness seat. What was she doing?

Bellatrix noticed her appearance there and sent a questioning look but Hermione couldn't answer her. Her mouth was already moving and spouting out accusatory words.

"You tortured me for information! You carved the words mudblood onto my arm and killed my friends!" Hermione clamped her hands to her mouth in shock, tears pricking at her eyes. She felt such anger swirl inside her, such resentment, but why? She wanted to rush out of her seat and hurt the woman in front of her. Had she been a victim of the woman Bellatrix was masquerading as or was it...? This made no sense. The judge couldn't know who they were right? He gave no indication of it. He would have said something by now. So it couldn't be the real Bellatrix she was blaming this for.

"She had to do it for the war," the lawyer justified but this barely moved the scale and he frowned. As it stood, Bella's heart was heavier than the feather and she had been on her last witness.

"No no no nononono!" Bellatrix cried as she strained on her restraints, her eyes white with fear. Everyone had melted away into the dark shadows that suddenly crowded the sides of the building, swirling and hissing ominously.

"Bella!" Hermione screamed in panic. That was it, she wasn't waiting around anymore. She made to get up from her seat but found she couldn't move, invisible ropes tying her hands to her sides.

"We have reached a decision. Given the state of your heart and the words of your witnesses, only one choice remains for you. You have lived your life in darkness, bringing with you chaos and pain and blood to those who were your family and to those whom you barely even knew, and so to darkness you shall return. Many a life you have cut short. And for that I judge you fit for eternal damnation!" The judges words rang mercilessly around the court room and he seemed to grow taller, his figure stretching and melding until his head brushed against the ceiling of the building. His eyes were black and he pointed his giant gavel at her.

"Court adjourned!" At his words the entrance of the court house, which they had come through only a mere hour ago, widened dramatically, a gaping mouth that only lead to pure darkness. Screams and cries of pain came from it, as a wind swirled, sucking at Bellatrix to pull her in. She held onto the desk she was at, thankful the chains were wrapped around her wrist. Her dress and her hair swept past her face as the wind got stronger and as the screams got louder and louder. A deep chuckle reverberated from the portal to whatever fate it was Bellatrix had been condemned to and the sound of rattling chains and dogs barking and snarling rose from the depths.

"Do not fight it. It is what you deserve," the judge rumbled, his cloak billowing along with the wind that tugged at everything in the room, hungry to gulp it down.

 _Shit, we're in a deep mess!_  Hermione narrowed her eyes against the wind and tried once more to break free of her bonds but she couldn't. She knew a spell that would work but she couldn't get her wand. Maybe if she...Hermione ducked her chin inwards and tried to grasp the tip of her wand that was just poking out from under her bra line. Her teeth clamped around it and she pulled, careful to not let it slip back. It was tedious work and she felt time was slipping away from her but she kept at it, knowing Bellatrix was completely useless right now.

"Holy FUCK!" Bellatrix's exclamation almost broke Hermione's concentration but she ignored it even though every fiber in her body told her to look up. If she had, Hermione would have been frightened thoughtless at the sight that awaited Bellatrix. The braying of dogs had drawn to a terrifying crescendo as a massive three headed and entirely black dog stuck it's three heads through the passageway. It's mouth salivated at the prospect of its next meal, its red eyes trained greedily on the black haired witch in front of them. The doorway was still too small for them to get through but it was gradually widening and soon their shoulders would be through and after that their whole body and-Bellatrix didn't want to continue thinking that pattern of thought.

"Hermione!" she screamed, hoping the girl had a plan because every rational thought had been flung from Bella's head except for the primordial fear she felt in her chest. But the girl had already freed her wand, and unbound the invisible ropes around herself. " _Accio_!" she shouted, snatching Bellatrix's heart from the scale and into her hand. She tried to ignore the revulsion at the sensation of the pulsating organ and jumped out of her booth, running forwards to the frightening black haired witch. She tapped on her chains and they snapped open.

"Thank god," Bellatrix breathed, grabbing her wand. "We need to get out of here," she stammered, the hairs on the back of her head standing up as the dogs snarled and got closer, their process a bit slowed down by the fact the three heads argued with one another over who would rip into Bellatrix first.

"God cannot help you here," the judge rumbled. He watched them with contempt in his eyes.

"Bella, you take the key from him. I'll take the dogs," Hermione ordered, her jaw hard.

"Are you mad? Have you bliddy lost it?!" Bella yelled, pointing at the massive dog. "It's going to tear you apart. Forget the bloody key and let's just focus on getting out of here alive!" But Hermione wasn't going to be so easily swayed. Bella had been frightened off for some reason from the dogs, Hermione didn't understand why exactly, but she knew if they turned tail now they would never get another chance like this.

"Just do it," Hermione muttered and ran towards the dog.

"Wait!" Bellatrix's hand caught only air as she tried to stop her friend. She watched as the younger girl fearlessly walked up to the monstrous dog. She was so stupid! And rash! Bellatrix grit her teeth. No matter. If Hermione was going to take on the dog regardless then Bella supposed she better do her part and secure the key.

For some strange reason Hermione wasn't completely scared of the dog. She felt like she had faced one before and she knew how she had defeated it. Conjuring a harp out of thin air, she hide her wand in favor of it. If the older witch had seen this, she would have told the girl she not only lost her mind but had it trampled on. As it was Bellatrix was engaging the judge in a heated battle.

"Think you're so bloody above us all?" Bellatrix snarled, more at ease now that her wand was in her hand and power thrummed through her veins. " _Reducto!_ " Her spell hit him in the chest and he began to shrink. He didn't go quietly, in his rage swinging his massive gavel down. Bella dove out of the way, roughly rolling to her side, as it smashed several benches to bits, cracked the ground and disrupted the scale which fell with a great clatter to the floor. He swung down again with a mighty roar and again she ducked, just barely getting to her feet and missing it. A chunk of shattered concrete hit her in the forehead and split it open, blood running into her eyes. She wiped it hastily away and crawled to her feet, running to avoid his third strike, thankfully this one easier to bypass as his gavel had reduced by five times in size.

"Just accept your fate! You little vermin!" he snarled as he shrunk even faster till he was back at his average height.

" _Accio_  key!" was Bellatrix's answer and with joy she saw the key, which had been attached to a necklace and hidden under his robes, floating towards her.

"No!" he roared angrily, reaching with his pudgy fingers for it but it was too late. The key, an old fashioned object that looked to be made of plain metal, was in her grasp.

"I'd say it was fun, but it wasn't," Bellatrix said cheekily and aimed a stupefy at his forehead, knocking him back into his seat. Then she turned on her heel to see that all the barking had stopped. The three headed dog was asleep as Hermione stood above it, playing Mary had a little lamb on her harp. Well, that was certainly one way to defeat the dog. Bellatrix arched her brows and caught the brunette's gaze.

"He's sleeping now," she whispered. "But I don't think we can get around him. We'll have to find another way to leave." She was right. The massive beasts hind legs were still in the doorway blocking their exit. But not their  _only_  exit. With a mischievous grin Bellatrix eyed the three panel window at the back of the courtroom. She decided that the judge in the middle needed a little help with his image.

"Bellatrix, no," Hermione started, a warning in her voice, when she saw the raven haired witch had hiked her brow at the high up widows. She didn't like the look she was giving the brunette. "Bellatrix-

-No!" Hermione screamed as they smashed through the windows and free fell to the ground below them. The witch had cast a an unsupported flight charm on the both of them, thus propelling them outwards but it had only worked for mere seconds and now they could no longer fly.

"I don't suppose you have a spell for this?!" Hermione's arms waved helplessly behind her as the ground rushed up to meet them. Oh Merlin's right nut sack she was going to die! That crazy witch had sent them free-falling to their dooms! Could a protego protect her from a fall? She doubted it.

"I wonder, do I have a spell?" The dark witch asked playfully as she put her wand to her lips thoughtfully.

"Bellatrix!" They were now a few feet from the ground, and it looked really painful.

"Bellatrix what?"

"Oh do not play this game with me!" Hermione cried out a mix of panic and anger in her voice. When the witch was silent, and the wind continued to whistle through her hair Hermione added, "Bellatrix stop us please!"

Bellatrix merely smiled as the wind pushed the hair back from her face and swung her wand in a wide arch. They slowed down at the last possible moment, landing softly to the ground on their feet. Hermione immediately bent over and grasped her knees, taking in huge shuddering breaths. Bellatrix simply twiddled her wand in her hands as she gave the other girl a moment to recuperate. "If you," she said between pants, "do that, ever again," at this Hermione straightened up and glared at the witch, "I will feed your heart to the dog myself." She was clutching Bella's still beating heart and roughly shoved it into the other woman's chest. Bellatrix let out a hiss of pain, but now that her heart was there safely the hole in her chest closed up. She touched it, astonished that the skin showed no signs of struggle. Weird magic.

At the mention of it, a loud yap was heard. No doubt the three headed dog had awakened now that Hermione had stopped her playing.

"I'll feed your heart to the dog myself," Bellatrix mocked in a higher pitch as the two took to their heels. "It was just a little flight spell, no need to get your panties in a twist. I had to all under control," she muttered, disgruntled, as they opened up a portal and disappeared inside.

Once they had retired safely to their house, Hermione's anger at the older witch and their mishap with the flight had nearly disappeared. "Do you have it?" she impatiently looked over at Bellatrix as the witch collapsed onto the couch with a tired sigh. With a wave of her hand they removed their glamour. Her tired and pale face appeared, blood smeared across it from the wound she had sustained. Without the glamour it was visible and Hermione quickly became concerned.

"Are you okay?" she asked, rushing over to examine the wound. She pulled back the witch's hair so she could observe more closely.

"I'm fine, get your sodden hands off of me," Bellatrix grumbled, slapping the others hands away. "It'll stop bleeding in a few. All that matters is we got the key." She pulled out the trophy of their battle. This one wasn't as nice looking as their first key. It almost looked like a piece of rubbish.

"You're only saying that because you don't know healing magic," Hermione reprimanded as she pulled out her wand and muttered a few words. Instantly the blood cleared and the wound closed up. Bellatrix's forehead looked as good as new. The dark witch frowned and jumped up from her seat and away from Hermione.

"What? What's wrong?" Hermione asked, sensing that the other witch had been on edge ever since the court case, she was just holding it in.

"Nothing." She crossed her arms over her chest defensively."I can take care of myself. I don't need you coddling me like a baby."

Yup, definitely something had happened. Bellatrix's horror stricken face as she had seen the three headed dog come for her was etched into Hermione's mind. "Is this about the dog? Did the judge do something to you when he passed his jurisdiction?" Bella locked her jaw and looked away. Hermione ran through other things that the witch could be upset about. "Is this about me? Is this because of what I said?" Hermione recalled how she had been forced to the stage to shout those allegations at the person her friend was pretending to be. Bellatrix gave her a side look, but didn't say anything else. So it  _was_  about that. But why was it bothering the witch so much? It's not like Hermione had actually been hurt. How could the brunette prove this? That's right, if it were true then she would have a scar on her body with the words mudblood scrawled across.

The brunette rolled back her long sleeves. "None of that was true. Their just playing mind games with us. Look, there's nothing...here," Hermione's words slowed down as the light of the room reflected on the pale and faded but distinctly scarred flesh.  _Mudblood_.

She turned her arm over back and forth, to check if she was imagining things. If this was some trick of the light or something. She let her fingers trail over the raised flesh. It felt so real. Had this always been here? How come she hadn't noticed? Bellatrix saw the scar and she swallowed thickly before she silently raced up the stairs.

"Wait, Bellatrix!" Hermione was torn out of her musings by the running footsteps. "Wait!" She ran after her but the witch was too fast and had gained too much ground. She dove into her room and locked the door behind her, letting her back touch it as she slowly slide down into a puddle onto the floor.

"Bellatrix, open up this door this very instant!" Bellatrix merely put a silencing charm on the door. The loud pounding grew muffled until it finally stopped all together. If the brunette was trying to magic the door open, she would fail. Bellatrix had encrypted her door with the best of protection spells. It was better if the brunette just gave up on her.

All throughout the trial Bellatrix had been uneasy. She had known it wasn't really her on trial and it gave her comfort to know this, when she stood accused of those terrible crimes against not only humanity but witch kind as well. She had even been shocked when Hermione, hidden under the appearance of being an old lady, spouted out her own list of grievances against her. And then, when her heart had been too heavy for the feather and the judge had condemned her to eternal damnation, to an eternity of fire, pain and pure terror, something in Bellatrix had cracked. The sight of the dog coming for her, for  _her_  and not her false persona scared her to her wits end. And she knew it was here for her because she could hear it's whispers in her head, it's barks translating into words of malice.

_Bellatrix, we come for you. We come to feast on your organs, to cover our claws with the filthy and malignant blood that runs through your veins; to wipe away the stain of your evil existence forever in the belly of a doom brought to you by your own hand and actions._

She had stared into the red eyes of her destiny, one that she couldn't back out of. Only Hermione had been able to break her out of this blanket of fear that had enveloped her. With her wand in hand Bellatrix had focused on getting the key from the judge. That was something she could face. Fighting him threw her previous thoughts out of her head and it was only when they had returned to the safe house that she had let them resurface. Something nagged at her, left her skin feeling like it was crawling. She couldn't erase the dogs haunting words from her head no matter how hard she tried.

Those things, she couldn't have done them, right? The judge hadn't known it was her, he gave no indication of it. But then Hermione had rolled up her sleeves and there it had been, the words mudblood carved crudely into her flesh. The brunette had been confused-why would she have something like that-but Bellatrix felt her worlds collide as an idea, one so terrible it took her breath away ran through her head. She needed to get as far away as she could from Hermione and  _now_.

She had ran up to her room and collapsed onto the floor, her fingers raking through her long black locks. She had thought all this time it was her persona who had been judged, but it was  _her_  heart on the scale. No one elses, but Bellatrix's. The judge had been able to know that as soon as he saw it and he had judged her accordingly for her actions. Bellatrix closed her eyes. She had done all those things to other people. She had  _hurt_  them. She had  _hurt_  Hermione. That was why the girl stood in the jurors box with them. And because of what Bellatrix had done, the gates of Hell had been opened for her.

And she had just barely escaped them. Barely escaped who knows what kind of torments and tortures for the rest of her existence. Her hands were shaking now.

That's why all the judges told her her efforts were fruitless, because she hadn't been a good person. She had been a killer.

Bellatrix let out a long shaky breath as she leaned her head back on the door. Where did she go from here? What did she do next? And did she tell Hermione the truth? They had made a pact about not keeping secrets from one another-swore on it. Bellatrix shook her head, determined to keep this hidden. She wasn't going to drag the girl into her troubles.

She wasn't ever going to tell Hermione.

**A/N: I modeled this court scene on a mixture of modern proceedings (thus the Justice figure and the scales) and on the way the Egyptians did things. Originally they would weigh a persons heart against a feather and if the heart was heavier than the feather a dog looking monster would devour their heart. The dog in this chapter is not from Egyptian myth but from Greek. It is the three headed dog who guards the underworld, Cerberus. So you could say I drew from a lot of various influences to make this scene. And this is because I wanted to include a variety of different myths of the way people have their souls judged. I also alluded to symbolism of the demons and angels for good measure with those stained glass windows and their images.**

* * *

**Outtake: Scars**

**A/N: Another scene that I didn't put in the finalized chapter but which I was really tempted to put in. Still, I thought it might be interesting to read as an outtake from the series, so here you guys go.**

Bellatrix had scars on her skin, crawling around her wrists like crude bracelets and going up and down her ribs, nicking them like someone had tried to count the number of ribs she had by attempting to cut through her flesh to rip them out. She had no idea where they had come from. She was certain she hadn't received them in this hotel or else she would have remembered, her memories of her imprisonment in this place crystal clear. She deduced they had to have come from her past life, as well as did the tattoo on her neck, a number branded onto her skin like she was nothing more than cattle. If Hermione noticed the scars, which Bellatrix made sure to keep covered up with long sleeves and a glamour on her neck for the brand, then she didn't say anything.

Bellatrix had thought she had been the only one with scars but then she had seen the girl sitting silently in a room, all her focus on something crude on her arm. Bellatrix had strode quietly into the room, eyeing the girl with curiosity.

"What have we here?" she asked and the girl startled, quickly going to cover up her sleeve.

"Oh, Bellatrix. Hello," Hermione breathed trying to look nonchalant. "You came in so quietly, I didn't notice you."

Bellatrix made a noise that said 'I bet you didn't' and approached the brunette. "What's that scar on your arm?"

"What scar?" Hermione said, attempting to hide the arm in question behind her back as she stood up, suddenly defensive.

"The one on the hand behind your back," Bellatrix said and grabbed for the arm but Hermione moved to the side, dodging her. "It's nothing really. I just thought I had a bruise there or something, but I healed it with my wand. All good now," the brunette squeaked as she tried to back out of the room, casting glances to how the far the door was and to how close Bellatrix was getting.

"Then you don't mind me looking, right?" Bellatrix poised, curiosity burning her up. She wanted to see what it was Hermione was hiding.

"I said it's fine," Hermione insisted, continuing to back up and watch the older witch warily. She was almost at the door. Then she could escape from Bellatrix and her sudden interest in her. But her heel caught on the edge of the thick carpet underneath her feet and with a yelp she cartwheeled backwards, her hands coming up to sides in a windmill motion to keep her from falling. Bellatrix's hand shot out as fast as a snake and grasped Hermione by the wrist of the arm with the scar, preventing her from falling any further. As it was the girl was at a 45 degree angle from the upright witch and she was struggling to pull herself into a similar stance, her free arm waving at her side as she rocked on the heels of her feet, the older witch's surprisingly strong hold the only thing preventing her from meeting the floor.

Bellatrix's eyes lit up in triumph as she slide up the long sleeve of the brunette's sleeve with her free hand. "What do we have here?" she whispered, running a finger over the bumps and edges on the inside of Hermione's inner arm. The witch was quiet for once and was looking away. Bellatrix tugged the girl upright but continued to stare at the mark. Mudblood was scrawled in childish writing roughly into the flesh. The older witch could sense the hatred with which these words had been permanently inscribed onto the flesh. She wondered briefly if whoever had given her her scars had also given Hermione's own. "Who gave you this?"

The brunette worked her jaw silently before answering, her voice a bit unsteady. "I don't know. But whoever it was despised me. This word is a vulgar insult meant to remind me of how I am nothing but trash, just mud." Hermione's voice cracked on this. "I can feel their malice every time I run my fingers over the word. It's like the person poured all their soul out into making sure I would forever be reminded of their hatred, of making sure that their vile feelings would linger with me everlastingly like some depraved ghost."

Bellatrix felt a surge of anger and empathy at this. Who could have carved such a hateful thing on this young girl's flesh? Who did such terrible things? And the older witch knew what the girl meant by feeling the ghost of whoever had created these scars. Bellatrix's scars certainly hadn't been made out of love and a shiver went through, so dark and strong, when she brushed her fingers against them that only the warm taste of chocolate would help away the shadows of despair that crowded her mind.

Bellatrix looked at the younger witch, who was still avoiding her gaze, having found the blank wall to her left suddenly very interesting, and felt like she had to say something to make her feel better. She wasn't alone in being marred, not that Bellatrix would ever admit to her own scars. She wasn't an open person.

"Hermione, I promise you that once we get out of this place," her hand had stilled on the girl's scar as she figured out what to say. "I will hurt whoever it was that did such a hateful thing to you." Hermione's watery eyes snapped to Bellatrix's serious dark orbs. "I'm being sincere." Then she dropped the girl's wrist from her hand and it swung limply to the girl's side.

"Thank you, Bellatrix. But there's no need for such violence. I'm sure a stern talking to will clear much up," Hermione said, using the corner of her sleeve to wipe away at the wet corners of her eyes. Of course the girl would insist on talking it through. Bellatrix felt action was better than words.

"Sometimes violence is the only answer. And I doubt that if they hate you so much they would want to listen to what you have to say." Hermione lowered her gaze and worried at her bottom lip at this. The girl was still upset. Bellatrix pulled out her wand. "How about we practice some jinxes. You think we should use the jelly legs jinx or the one that makes mushrooms grow out of their ears? Imagine the look on their face when they go look in the mirror and see a whole assortment of fungi sprouting out. Should we make them poisonous?"

Hermione gave a weak laugh at this. "As if you would even be able to tell the poisonous ones from the edible ones. Last time I caught you in a kitchen confused between a cucumber and zucchini."

"In my defense they both look the same."

"They do not," Hermione countered and soon the two were bickering about vegetables. Hermione did feel a bit better if she had to admit it. She had been frightened of the intensity of hate that looking at the scar on her arm dredged up in her. The dark witch's words had soothed her and the matter now no longer seemed as ominous as it had before.

**(Originally I was going to make this a scene in the story because it was meant to draw the two characters closer to one another (also for irony purposes as we all know Bella was the one who created the scars and here she is cursing whoever had made them, unaware of the the truth) but I scrapped it and used the reveal of the mudblood tattoo in the court scene where it would have more impact and cause conflict between the characters, leading them to have to make the choice of whether they should continue working together or not.)**


	10. A Blast from the Past

* * *

_Is this not the true romantic feeling; not to desire to escape life but to prevent life from escaping you-Thomas Wolfe_

* * *

"Two keys, two!" blustered the fat judge, known as Ibraham, holding up two sausage sized fingers. He glared angrily at the other two judges next to him who were seated around a heavy oak table with ornamentation of angels, humans and demons crawling up the sides of the legs.

"I know!" Dorian snapped back, his whole body a sharp red. He had been the first one tricked by the witches into having his key stolen. "You think I haven't been keeping track of their actions?"

"Clearly not," shot back Ibraham. "Because not only have they gotten away from you, but they've also come after me and taken my key and  _still_  we haven't caught them."

"It's not my fault that your key got stolen! It's your fault that you were too useless and stupid to protect yourself from them. They even got away from your judgment! Bellatrix managed to escape the gates of hell! How is that possible? It's unprecedented." Dorian stood up at this, slamming his fists on the table, a tail lashing angrily behind his back.

Ibraham's eyes flashed dangerously and he too stood up, albeit more calmly and voice less ire filled. "They wouldn't have gotten to me, if you had done your job properly. They got your key first and grew confident and cocky from it. The key's power is fueling their magical abilities. So if it's anyone's fault, it's yours!" He pointed a finger at Dorian, the red skinned man snapping his teeth furiously, looking like he wanted to bite off Ibraham's appendage. The air around them crackled with tension, both of their eyes having gone black.

"I think it would do well if both of you stopped blaming each other," a sober voice, laced with disinterest and apathy spoke up. The third judge, a blue skinned thin man with a pair of spectacles on his face addressed both of them, looking up from the paperwork he had been quietly reading. Both judges glanced at him, but did not sit down, their bodies tense and awaiting confrontation if the situation escalated to that.

"Both of your keys have been stolen, that is fact. We cannot reverse what has happened in the past. All we can do is continue to move on. I suggest you put aside your accusations and put your heads together in figuring out how to get the stolen keys back and how to sentence both women properly to their fate."

Dorian spoke up. "And what about you? You know that they'll only come after you next."

"Don't worry about me," the third judge said, getting up and sweeping his papers into his hand. He took off his spectacles with his other hand and let his rapidly turning black eyes focus on them. "I've done my research on their past, and let's say our little friends will have a special visitor." With that he disappeared in a burst of bright light. Dorian frowned and turned to Ibraham. "What did he mean by that?" His skin had turned pale now that his anger had largely left him.

Ibraham was silent, contemplating. "I do not know," he admitted at last. The third judge was the most secretive of all of them so it was often hard to tell what he thought or felt, if he could even  _feel_ anything. "But, if Gabriel does have a plan then it will definitely put an end to the witches vile schemes. Once and for all." He began laughing abruptly at this, his big booming voice echoing through out the room. Dorian did not share his amusement.

"It'd better," he growled under his breath as he turned on his heel to leave, leaving the still laughing man behind. "Or else I'll unleash my full fury on this place, and nothing will be able to hold me back from tearing it down to the last brick."

* * *

Voices swirled in the never ending dark and Hermione twisted and turned to catch a glimpse of the bodies these voices belonged to. She was only rewarded to more black. "Hermione, it's me, Harry. I just wanted to tell you that we did it." His voice was filled with enormous relief. "It's over. When you wake up again we'll be able to live in a peaceful world. No more Voldemort. So please come to us."

Harry...Harry...the name stayed on the tip of Hermione's tongue, tasting familiar and feelings of warmth fuzzing inside her. But the other name, Voldemort, that called up fear and hatred and revulsion inside her. She had seen his name here before, but where and how? There was a pause before another voice spoke up. This was the whiny voice from before. "Hermione, I miss you. Come on. You have to wake up for us. We're heroes now. I'm sure you don't want to miss that. People are praising you for being the smartest muggle born alive." He sounded close to tears and Hermione had to swallow the lump in her throat as she heard his pain laced words.

She waited for the third voice, as it often came but it was silent and then she was awake once more. Hermione sat up in her bed, breathing heavily. For the longest time after she had taken the second key she had begun to have these dreams more and more often. They confused her to no end. She knew it wasn't the judges speaking to her, or any of their magic tricks being used on her. She felt like these voices were people she knew from her past, somehow getting to her here, wherever here was. She had tried talking to them, reaching out to them, but they remained ignorant of her cries. So all she did was listen to them and wait. They kept begging her to come to them, to come back. And that they had finished some great war, some war between witches and wizards.

She had wanted to talk this over with the dark witch but Bellatrix had locked herself into her room and hadn't left no matter how long Hermione begged her to come out for. Without the other witch Hermione drifted from room to room in the house. She didn't have information on the judges because Bellatrix only told her things on a need to know basis and so the brunette couldn't even go after the last key if she desired to do so. She was mad at the dark haired witch. How dare she do this! They were supposed to get through their troubles together. They had sworn to trust each other and to tell each other the truth. Yet it was clear the witch was hiding something from Hermione that was so terrifying she would break their promise for it.

Hermione got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, readying herself to another day of boredom when who did she see but Bellatrix tending to the fire. The sight of the witch surprised Hermione so much that she paused, her hand on the stair railing and feet on the last step. The dark witch didn't notice her and continued to work at the fire silently. At last when Hermione found her voice she spoke the witch's name.

Bellatrix turned around, her face looking pale and gaunt, her eyes haunted. She looked momentarily scared of Hermione but replaced it with a haughty look, jerking her chin up and putting her hands on her hips. "Don't even start with the questions."

"And why not?" Hermione came down from the last step, glaring the witch down. They were going to have a confrontation that much was certain and Hermione was going to walk away with answers this time. "I have every right. You can't keep disappearing up into your room every time something bothers you. We're in this together and if something is bothering you I need to know so I can help you."

"I don't need your help," the witch spat back haughtily. "I just need time to be alone without your pestering presence to think things over."

"If I really bother you this much then why ask for my help in the first place? If you're so confident in your abilities then by all means be my guest. I'll hand the keys back over to the judges and let's see you get them back by yourself." Hermione grit her teeth.

"I asked you for aid because I thought you would be a help and not an annoyance. I needed a partner that would focus their energies on escaping from this place and not prying into my personal business!" Bellatrix extended a hand in anger, to punctuate her point.

"It's not prying into business when it affects both of us!" Hermione spat back. She was not going to let this conversation go into a circle of blaming and screaming at one another without anything of value being said. "I know what happened at court that date." At this Bellatrix's face got paler. "So why don't you stop pretending like nothing of importance did because we both damn well know something did." Hermione had had a lot of time to think about things without the dark witch around and she had put some things together that she didn't like.

Hermione knew she had the other witch now. She spread out her hands. "The stage is all yours. I'll let you speak and explain these things unless you'd rather listen to what conclusions I've arrived at."

Anger at being forced into this flashed in the dark witch's eyes and she paced away from the fire, coming to rest her hands on the back of an armchair. "How much do you know?"

Hermione gave a small smile. Oh there was no way she was going to tell the witch how much she had figured out, so that she could only stick to that and not elaborate beyond that. "Let's assume I know as much as you."

Bellatrix's nostrils flared. She knew that Hermione was aware of what she had been trying to do and swallowing hard she went on. "Back in the court room I was sentenced to hell." Her voice was whispery and light. Fear flashed in her eyes at the memory of that day and her hands curled tightly on the chair as she looked away from the brunette. "And that...frightened me. I saw things there that you didn't. Horrors that I can't even begin to comprehend much less explain. That's why I had to be alone. To think things over. I didn't want you to see me in that state." Bellatrix felt extremely uncomfortable saying this. She was admitting to her feelings and feelings were a sign of weakness. But she'd rather admit to this than the actual truth: that she had been a criminal in her past and hurt Hermione herself. She swore she would never tell. Because it would ruin everything they had done so far.

"And?" Hermione questioned and Bellatrix felt a stab of panic next to her heart. Had Hermione actually found out the truth? "And what?" she said cautiously.

"Is that it?" Hermione's face gave away nothing. In this moment Bellatrix felt like the brunette was a judge, judging her and the words spilling from her mouth. And any minute she would deliver a swift and terrifying decision. "Yes. As for your scars I have no idea where they came from. I have scars too on my body. Nothing like yours but it can be safe to assume we must have gotten them somewhere here. A way to mark us by the judges."

Hermione's lips twisted into a frown and she absently looked down at her covered arm, the one with her scar. She seemed to want to speak more on the matter but dropped it for now. "We'll talk more about this, but I want to address something else with you now." Bellatrix let out a barely audible sigh of relief. She felt like she had barely dodged a bullet. "And what's that?" Her hands relaxed on the top of the chair.

"I think I have an idea of where we are." Bellatrix waited silently for the brunette to collect her words. The brunette picked up her eyes, connecting with the black haired woman's. "Think about the facts. We wake up with no memories wearing either white, black, or gray with masks to conceal our identities and then they require us to forget everything, to just eat and wait as they parade a myriad of distractions like plays or tea parties to blind us from the truth of this place." Hermione had begun to pace around the room, counting off on her fingers the facts, her eyes on the floor. Bellatrix's eyes followed her in interest. "And then one of the things they require us to attend is a play on Dante's Inferno which has heavy themes of heaven and hell and on what one deserves in the afterlife. And then the three judges, those who decide our eternal fate once we leave from this place. One of them being hell." Hermione's eyes briefly locked in on those of Bellatrix's to gauge her reaction to those words. The dark haired witch kept her face neutral.

"And let's not forget all the dead bodies. That's the biggest clue."

"So what does it all mean?" the other witch was getting impatient. She just wanted Hermione to get to the point. Hermione paused at this, a grim look on her face.

"Bellatrix, we're in purgatory."

The fire crackled innocently behind them as the words weighed in the very air in this room. "Purgatory?" Bellatrix said slowly, tasting the way the word fit in her mouth.

"Yes," Hermione answered resolutely. "It only makes sense. I never would have known such things existed if it had not been for me watching that play but it all makes sense now. Whatever this wizarding war is it has caused massive causalities and resulted in our...deaths," Hermione choked a little on saying this word. "And now we're stuck here awaiting our judgment, as to where we should go next in the afterlife."

Bellatrix furrowed her brow. "Are you sure this is correct?"

Hermione gave a little laugh of disbelief. "And where else would we be Bellatrix? Do you have any other explanation for our situation?"

Bellatrix shrugged haplessly. It had never crossed her mind that they were already dead. Her hands slowly came up to grab at the sides of her face. So what was the point of her trying to get the keys if they were already dead? It's not like they would just come back from beyond the grave. It wasn't possible!

Hermione sensed the inner conflict going through Bellatrix's mind. "We're not going to give up, Bella. The keys are important, but not for the reason we originally thought. The keys can bring us back alive. Back to the real world."

The older witch meet the others eyes, her black orbs swirling. "But coming back from the dead is impossible. It's never been done before."

Hermione merely smiled. "And when has that ever stopped you?" Truthfully Hermione had been distraught by this idea, but at the same time the concept gave her a peace of mind and confidence. Now that she knew what the truth of this place was than she could feel freer to focus all her energies on getting her life back. She was a bit shocked that the dark witch was taking this harshly as she was usually so unaffected by the things going on around her, but she supposed the witch had been undergoing a particularly stressful time period, with being condemned to hell and all that and now finding out she was dead all this time. Hermione refused to let her mind dwell on the specifics of the trial because if she did she started doubting Bellatrix and she couldn't because she was the only person she had here. She wasn't even going to delve deeper on the connotations of wearing white versus black. She was certain that Bellatrix couldn't be  _that_  bad, right? After all she had done nothing but help and fight with Hermione to save both their lives. If she had truly been evil then she would have killed Hermione or hurt her a long time ago, at least that's what Hermione reasoned. She shook her head to dispel these thoughts and focused on regarding the older witch. She looked more assured now, that familiar fire burning in her eyes.

"The idea is certainly something and I would want to dispute it but I have nothing better to offer. So I'll go with it for now. And since I'm going with it, that means we need to get the third key as quickly as possible. Who knows how long we've been gone. I can't speak for you but I'm impatient to getting back to the real world."

Hermione let another smile grace her lips, glad to see Bellatrix had bounced back from her earlier horror. "And what are your plans for it?"

* * *

It turned out Bellatrix's plans involved getting smashed at a bar.

"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Hermione groaned, one hand rubbing her face, other clutching the shot glass of fire whiskey in her hand. She sat right across from Bellatrix at a table in that night club-the In Between- that Hermione had first arrived in what felt like years ago.

"Because, they won't expect us to be here, that's why. As far as I know this is no judges domain, but we're going to make sure. Dorian's domain was the dance hall, or just big parties in general, whereas Ibraham's is feast halls, anywhere there's food and drink in copious amounts."

"And the third one?"

Bellatrix waved her hand to show her lack of knowledge on the matter. "I actually don't know. I haven't seen the third judge much. He doesn't leave his domain often, whatever it is."

"So then what do we do to find it? I'm sure knocking down shots of firewhiskey is not going to help us achieve that." Hermione's face was a mask of displeasure and she gave a disgruntled sound from the back of her throat.

"No it won't," Bellatrix conceded, not voicing that she had been tired of being stuck in the house all this time and needed some change of scenery and a bottle of liquor to make her forget her troubles momentarily. "But it'll help us relax. We have to celebrate the fact that we've stolen two keys from them."

"Really?" Hermione was not impressed by this choice. "You do realize their hunting us down and now we're out and about getting inebriated which will make us easier to catch."

Bellatrix waved a finger in front of Hermione's face. "They will be expecting us to be hunting down for the third key not getting smashed. So enjoy yourself for now, because tomorrow the real business starts. We might as well celebrate the fact that we've died." Bellatrix raised the glass to her lips with a smirk and Hermione rolled her eyes as the witch downed her fifth shot in the past hour.

"That's not something one celebrates," Hermione pointed out when the witch gave her a questioning look as to why the brunette had yet not taken her first shot.

"Then take a shot in honor of the fact that we'll soon be alive, ready to rejoin the world we departed too early."

"Fine, but only  _one_  shot, Bellatrix. One of us needs to be coherent if things go downhill." Hermione took the shot, grimacing as the hard liquor hit the back of her throat and burned its way down. "Uh, I can't believe you drink this."

"You'll get used to the taste eventually."

They sat at the table, talking in hushed tones as music played around them and patrons moved around. Somehow along the way, Bellatrix had managed to convince Hermione to take four more shots of the stuff. The brunette found out she had a low alcohol tolerance as soon the room was spinning around her and she could barely focus on the conversation with the older witch.

"What happened to being the more coherent of the two?" Bellatrix taunted, as she helped Hermione stumble out of her seat. She held the brunette by the waist so that the girl didn't tip over as they made their way through portals back to their safe house.

"Oh bugger off," Hermione slurred. "I don't understand why we had to drink that cat piss shite anyways."

Bellatrix merely chuckled at this. "I didn't know Hermione had such a potty mouth on her once she's drunk."

"I do not have a potty mouth," Hermione hiccuped. "I have a clean mouth because I go to dentists and stuff."

"Sure, sure," Bellatrix affirmed lackadaisically as she helped the two of them stumble into the living room of the house. The lights were off, only the magically glowing fire still on. Instead of turning on the lights like a sober person, Bellatrix merely whispered "Lumos" and the tip of her wand lighted up as she drunkenly pulled Hermione up the stairs. The process was laborious and took a long time as Hermione was nearly asleep on her feet and Bellatrix kept giggling uncontrollably to herself; the witch had taken at least ten shots and firewhiskey was no joke. At last they arrived to Hermione's room and Bellatrix dropped her unceremoniously to the bed. The girl bounced off the mattress and laid there like that, flat on her stomach.

"Whelp, this is where I leave you, dearie." Bellatrix made to move when a hand on her wrist stopped her.

"Don't go," Hermione mumbled. "I've never been drunk before. It's-what happens now?"

Bellatrix laughed at the absurdity of the question. "You sleep it off and hope you don't have a headache next morning or worse yet, a hangover."

"No, stay with me," Hermione whined, her voice muffled by the pillow it was in. Bellatrix let out a sigh. "I'm not. Good night." She swept out of the room, almost running into the door on her way out and managed to her bed, not bothering to change out of her clothes, the alcohol in her veins ordering her to sleep right this instant.

She had almost drifted off when a second later she heard the sound of someone stubbing their toes blindly on her dresser.

"Ow." Came Hermione's not so quiet response.

Bellatrix let out a sigh and reached for her wand which she had dropped sloppily onto her dresser top. "What do you want?" She raised the glowing wand at Hermione, the girl squinting her eyes at the glow. "I can't sleep by myself. Can I sleep with you?"

"And if I say no?"

"Then I'll cry if you don't let me." The brunette did indeed look close to tears at being rejected again and so Bellatrix sighed. This girl was so needy when drunk. She would remember not to let the girl drink any hard stuff any time soon. "Fine."

Hermione dropped down gratefully to the queen sized bed, jostling the other witch with her actions. Bellatrix, turned her back pointedly to the other witch, placing her wand on the desk. She was just about to drift off to sleep again when she felt a hand snake around her waist and a face bury into her back, the length of Hermione's body pressing against her back. The brunette was cuddling up to her. How annoying.

Bellatrix tried to curl her lip in disgust but her veins thrummed, deceitfully betraying how she really felt about it and she leaned back more into the gesture. She couldn't recall a time she had been held close willingly by another person and she wondered if this had to do with all those people she had killed. Despair clawed at her heart and it began to pound. How could she do such a thing? Why? She still couldn't believe it. It felt like someone else had done it, as if the her of the past was disconnected from the her of now. As if losing her memories had recreated her.

Recreated she might be, but her sins still stayed with her and she knew she was going to pay dearly for them if she stayed here. She raised her hands and stared at them in the dark before slowly clenching them. Hermione made a little noise in the back of her throat and her arm came up higher, fingers tickling Bellatrix's rib cage.

How could Hermione feel so comfortable sleeping with a murderess?

 _She can she because doesn't know since you haven't told her,_  sneered a voice in the back of her head.  _Coward_.

 _Shut up!_  Bellatrix spat back.  _I have to do it to protect her. Once we escape I'll make it up to her. And to everyone I've hurt. I'll be a good person._

_Ha! You can't help those who are dead._

Bellatrix grit her teeth, her shoulders tensing up. Hermione sensed the shift in the other woman's body because she let out a whimper. Her fingers tangled in the corset of the others dress and she nuzzled the back of her neck in an unconscious effort to relax the other. Bellatrix froze at this, suddenly feeling disgusted by herself. She grabbed Hermione's hand to remove it and paused. In the light of the moonlight from the window the scars on Hermione's arm glowed and she felt a stab of guilt. She let her fingers trace over the bumps. "I'm sorry Hermione," she whispered.

"It's okay," Hermione mumbled back and Bellatrix stiffened. Was the other girl awake? "I did my homework Harry, you can use it to help you study." Then with that the other girl turned onto her other side, her arm slipping out of Bellatrix's grasp. The dark witch felt oddly cold without her pressing into her back, even with the heat the alcohol in her system offered. But she merely closed her eyes and finally let herself drift away.

* * *

Hermione woke up the next day, her head pounding between her eyes and no idea what had happened. She sat up slowly, eyes flicking back and forth from her unfamiliar surroundings. This room wasn't hers. She felt her pockets for her wand. Had she and Bellatrix been captured by the judges? Had they been locked into a room together? But no, she felt like the judges would have punished them immediately rather than let them sleep off their drunkenness. And speaking of that, Hermione was never going to drink firewhiskey ever again. She felt disgusted. What had see been thinking? They could have been attacked by their enemies by anytime! She was never letting the older witch convince her into such things.

Hermione, not finding her wand in her clothes, patted the bed around her, her hand bumping into something. She turned her head to the side, her eyes flaring wide open. What was she doing with the dark witch in her bed? The others hair was strewn haphazardly on the pillows and the sheets were wrapped around her shoulders, a hint of clothes peeking out from underneath. Oh god, had they-? Her hands came up to her mouth to cover the loud gasp that came out of it but she wasn't quick enough. Bellatrix began to stir and when she did she slowly rubbed her eyes and sat up, Hermione unable to move, a lump forming in her throat.

"Well good morning pet. Sleep well?" Bellatrix asked, her voice still heavy with sleep although she looked wide awake. "What? What's with that face?"

Hermione's throat was dry as she asked, "did we, did we, you know-"

Bellatrix chuckled, sliding her feet off her side of the bed and stretching languorously. "No we didn't. But you are quite the cuddler." She shot back over her shoulder, grin on her face as she watched with satisfaction as Hermione's face flushed red. "Wouldn't leave me alone all night." She got off the bed, striding over to her dresser for a change of clothes.

How utterly embarrassing. Hermione was tempted to hide her face behind the sheets but instead she got up, deciding it was high time she got decent.

Once everything was in order, the two witches met downstairs for some tea and a late breakfast. "I'm never drinking with you again," Hermione muttered as she drank her tea, her head still throbbing. The other merely chuckled, not looking the least bit affected despite downing so much more liquor. "You're just jealous you can't handle as much as I can dearie. Besides, I'm pretty sure you didn't mind when you had your arms wrapped around me in bed." This was said with a wink that caused the brunette's ears to burn up in shame.

"Ugh," Hermione eloquently put and busied herself with eating, deciding not to continue this conversation. She couldn't believe she had actually clung to the other witch last night. She wouldn't be able to live this down and the twinkle in the other witch's eyes promised that it would not be forgotten any time soon.

"What? Nothing to say for once?" The older witch teased.

Hermione smartly kept her mouth shut.

With breakfast over they cleared the dishes and put on their masks, Bellatrix again with her golden ram horns and Hermione with one she had made for herself. She made one that only covered her eyes and was reminiscent of the features an owl had around their eyes. It was all white with blue sapphires hanging around the eyes. "Now we hunt for the third judges domain," Bellatrix announced and they headed out, cautious of their surroundings and of staff members who might look for them.

They had been walking around fruitlessly for several hours, going up and down corridors when they finally came across something that could be of interest to them. It was a man, being dragged away by two security guards from a room. Wordlessly the two girls hide behind an alcove in the hallway and watched with interest at the ongoing scene. This was no ordinary man. It was the one with no hair and pale skin that Hermione had first seen in that room of dead people. She could tell it was him, even past the mask he was wearing. Hermione had been right in her guess. The dead came to this hotel, or Purgatory, and were resurrected so to speak in order to await their judgment day.

"Let go of me!" the man snarled, as he strained against the vice like grip with which the burly guards held his upper arms in. "You can't keep the truth from me! I will find it out even if it takes me all eternity to do so!"

Bellatrix and Hermione shared wide eyed stares with one another. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione nodded her head minutely. "Good," the dark witch muttered and then shot out from where she had been hiding. " _Pulso_!" Twin jets of red magic hit each guard in the forehead and they dropped, unconscious to the floor. The man who had been in their grasp looked sharply to see his jailers were down and turned a careful but curious stare on Bellatrix as the woman approached him, coolly appraising her. Hermione's mouth was gaping open. This was certainly not what she had been thinking. But of course she should have known that the dark haired witch was going to choose fight over anything else.

"My, what marvels," the man spoke, pronouncing each word with care. He didn't look scared of Bellatrix at all. In fact he looked pleased. Bellatrix smiled but didn't dwell on the compliment. Hermione strode out from where she had been hiding and joined her friend. "Ah, there are two of you? Are you here to discipline me for my actions? Given your reaction to these guards here to I think not." He kicked the unconscious bodies next to him. "And I've never seen guests like you before, but I could be wrong about your intent to harm me." Something about the way he spoke and even the way he moved, his red eyes shifting back and forth from the two of them made Hermione feel very uncomfortable and very unsafe. Her gut twisted and squirmed but she couldn't place a finger on why exactly he disturbed her. Her wand threatened to slip out of her suddenly slippery grip and she tightened her hold on the wood. Bellatrix gave no indication if she recognized him, merely jerked her chin down the hall they had come from.

"I'm going to ask you a question only once and depending how you answer it, I'll decide what to do with you."

"How frightening," the man simply replied, only he did not look scared.

"Do you desire to seek the truths of this place and of escaping from them?"

The man contemplated this, raising his chin thoughtfully. "Is that not a paradox? Why seek the truth only to run from it?"

 _Come on, just answer the question,_  Hermione hissed impatiently. The hotel workers could happen upon them at any time.

"Because the truth is what will allow us to run from it," Bellatrix shot back, twiddling her wand in her fingers. She was talking to this man almost like an old friend, their conversation tone familiar.

"Well then I shall answer yes to that. I do want the truth and I do want to escape this horrid place."

"How much do you know?"

"I know enough that I wish to not remain in this hotel a moment longer." Bellatrix nodded her head at this. "Follow us then and we will lead you to salvation." The man nodded his head as they made their way back to the safe room but Hermione could not drop the sense of disquiet that dwelled in her. Bellatrix had said she would lead the man to salvation but why did Hermione have a feeling he was going to lead them to their doom?

* * *

"This is our safe house. Here you will be safe. None of the judges can get here to you. Or the staff workers." Bellatrix lead the man smugly around the house as he peered in interest at everything. "And you created this with magic?"

Bellatrix had also explained to the man about wands and the likes. Hermione had told her she had seen the man dead with a wand clamped between his fingers, prompting the dark witch's belief in this, but other than that Hermione was quiet during the duration of which Bellatrix entertained their new guest.

"Yes," Bellatrix proudly responded. "And you have magic too. Hermione told me you have a wand and we will go shortly to fetch it."

"Hermione," the man said the brunette's name as if tasting it like a snack that he wasn't quite sure he liked. He gave her a look that made her skin crawl.

"Yes, that is Hermione. She's been helping me on my quests." Bellatrix indicated to the younger girl. Somehow they had ended up back in the living room at the conclusion of the tour. Hermione stood a reasonable distance away from the man although Bellatrix had no qualms about it. They were a mere three feet from one another and this bothered the brunette but she didn't know why.

"And I am Bellatrix." The man's lips split into two on this. "Ah, Bellatrix. I feel like I have known you for a long time, yet I cannot recall our times spent together."

"I feel the same!" Bellatrix burst out excitedly. "I feel like I trusted you with my whole life!" Hermione rolled her eyes at this. Being over dramatic much? "Like I would have done anything for you." At this proclamation Bellatrix froze, her excitement dying down. She thought back to her trial. What had her lawyer said...that she had served someone devoutly and almost blindly and that had lead her to commit heinous crimes. Was this the same man? But no, he seemed  _so_  different. She felt towards him as one might to a friend. She pushed her doubts out of her mind and took to focusing on the warm feelings he invoked in her.

"Why the glum face?" the man tilted his head at her, his red eyes sparkling with some unreadable emotion as he noticed the way the joy had died on her face without warning.

"That is because I do not know you're name," Bellatrix played it off, tugging her lips into a faux smile.

"Call me Lord Voldemort." Hermione's heart skipped a beat at that. What had he said his name was? She felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees, she felt as if she was suddenly not in the same room with the others even though she was. Her mind whirled a thousand miles per hour, flashing a red WARNING sign. Bellatrix and Voldemort was oblivious to Hermione's inner turmoil and when she finally regained her composure she found that the two were leaving to go get the wizards wand.

"Wait here, we'll be back," Bellatrix instructed, tying a mask around her face. Voldemort was putting one on too. It was black with a beak that protruded and two round red dots on his cheek. "Wait, Bellatrix before you go we need to talk," Hermione said, rushing forwards to grab the older witch by the forearm.

"Go on, but quickly. I don't have a lot of time. Me and Lord Voldemort have to go before our window of opportunity closes." Hermione cast at a look at the man, his impassive face looking back at her. "Not here." She lowered her voice. "Privately. Just the two of us," Hermione added for clarification purposes. Bellatrix wrested her hand free.

"Later." Her hard look brooked no more discussion and the two left, leaving Hermione alone.

* * *

Hermione sat glumly on the couch, waving her wand around in boredom and watching the colorful dust waver in the air before it dropped down. What was taking the two so long? Had he hurt Bellatrix? Hermione could just imagine the man standing over the older witch, his hands soaked with her blood.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Hermione took to pacing around the house, trying to get her mind off of such dark matters. She had just cracked open a jar of peanut butter (it seemed whenever her boredom grew too much she was always in the kitchen) when the two magical beings stumbled into the house, laughing heartily.

"I can't believe you knocked that one guard down so hard he lost all his clothes in the process!" Bellatrix cackled with glee as she closed the door behind her.

The man's laughter was more subdued, sort of like a weird whispery noise. "I was not certain what that spell would do. The wand responds wonderfully to me, and the spells come to me in battle, but most are largely a mystery." They had walked into the living room now and tossed their masks onto the couch. Without the mask on the man's full face came free. It looked even more terrible from this close up, pale skin with the veins showing underneath, two holes were his nose should be and no eyebrows, giving his face a flat effect. What had happened to this man that he had been so ruined? Hermione left the kitchen to met with them.

"Do not worry, they will come to you. But we can train if it helps."

"I would like that."

"Bellatrix, can we talk now?" Hermione cut the two off. Bellatrix paused, as if she had forgotten the brunette was back at the castle. "Not now." She responded. "I'm going to train Lord Voldemort."

"But-"

"Nope." Bellatrix sang as she brushed past Hermione to the room they had designated for spell casting. Voldemort gave Hermione a look and then moved on. Hermione glared at the back of his bald head but said nothing as she internally fumed.

"I do not like this Hermione girl very much," Voldemort admitted as he blocked and sent a couple of spells back to Bellatrix. The black haired witch's veins were singing in joy as she got to fight him. He was so powerful, energy radiating off of him like a sun. It was nothing like fighting Hermione, who seemed had no proclivity for dueling magic. "Apologizes if I have offended you."

Bellatrix frowned, ducking her head as the brick wall behind her exploded. They were training in a magical replica of the In Between Club, albeit it was missing its patrons. Was she offended by the man's ready admission? If she was she didn't feel it yet. "And why does she offend you so?"

Voldemort waved his wand, sending all of Bellatrix's spells back at her. She put up a shield that blocked most of them, one of them passing past her cheek, ripping the skin. Hot blood trickled down her cheek and she licked it up using the tip of her tongue. Blood! Ha, now this was a duel! She wanted to push the man more and see what results she got!

"I'm not quite sure of the reason, but a large part of it has to do with the fact that I feel she's someone I hated in my past life."

"So you knew her too?" By Merlin's beard did every witch and wizard somehow know each other? Bellatrix caved the roof with a single wave of her wand and used the dust raised by it to slink closer to Voldemort. When the smoke cleared and she could get a good angle on him she let loose a flurry of red spells. They hit nothing, as he was no longer there. "Where-?" She turned her head and was rewarded with a spell to her face. She gave a scream as it knocked her to her feet, blood rushing in rivulets down her lips from her nose.

"Do you concede?" Voldemort asked and snarling Bellatrix got up. She never conceded to anyone. "That's what I thought," he sang merrily as she shot off so many spells in this dizzying array of color that she would be hard pressed to believe that none of them didn't hit him. But none had and he merely stood there coolly, his tie waving in the left over breeze. "How?" Bellatrix was shocked. She had never encountered someone with so much power. Just who had her friend been?

"Do not concern yourself over me, Bellatrix. I am impressed by  _your_  skill. This duel has jogged some of my memory, or whatever I can call these vague recollections that play upon my mind now, but in it I saw you and me, standing above armies of witches and wizards. You were the only one of my...friends that could rival my power as we fought against those who tried to kill us. Just like I know I can count on you to help me as we take our freedom from this hotel." But Bellatrix wasn't focused on the praise.

"Kill us, you said."

"Yes. Other witches and wizards wanted to kill us so we killed them before they could do the same to us."

"And why did they want to kill us?" Bellatrix had lowered her wand, and she was breathing hard but it wasn't from exertion.

Voldemort was oblivious to the raging emotions inside her. "I do not know that much, but surely it must have been because we were persecuted for some belief we had." Bellatrix couldn't stand to be in the room one moment more. "Training is over for today," she snarled and stormed out of the room, the man watching her silently. If he was stunned by her sudden twist in mood he gave no indication of it.

The dark witch needed a moment to think, to be at peace. She had already known that she had done horrible crimes, but hearing that she had not been alone in it, that she had done it under the orders of someone else made her sick. So he was the man that her lawyer had mentioned at the trial. And from the sounds of it, and what Bellatrix had just seen him do with magic, she had just given a monster the ability to continue it's crimes. What was she going to do now? She couldn't just ask for his wand back and there was no way she could beat him for it.  _Fuck, I fucked it all up!_ She grabbed her hair and pulled hard, pissed off at herself but also terrified of the monster she had let into her sanctuary.

She half expected Hermione to be outside waiting for her but when the brunette wasn't there, Bellatrix rushed to her bedroom only to find the brunette was instead in her room, looking at a picture on the wall. She startled the brunette with her violent entrance and Hermione turned to face her.

"What are you doing here?" Bellatrix snarled, not in the mood for company. She wanted to be alone in her room right now to figure out a way to fix all this. Hermione was startled by the amount of heat in the other woman's words but didn't comment on it. "You're bleeding." Bellatrix had completely forgot. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand and stared at the crimson streak. "So?" She barked.

"It looks painful. Let me help." The brunette moved over to her and Bellatrix was half tempted to jinx her through the floor just to get her to leave but she couldn't do that. If she did then the brunette would ask her what happened along with some silly queries focusing on her emotions, and she was certainly going to jinx her then for all those annoying questions!

The brunette took out her wand and steadied the dark haired witch's face with her palm. " _Epiksey_." A burn spread across Bellatrix's face but once it was gone, all the blood had been cleaned up and her nose was no longer sore. "Now will you listen to what I have to say?"

Bellatrix let out a huff and plopped herself down on her bed, propping herself up on her pillows. Hermione took this as a yes. "It's about our new guest," Hermione hesitated on saying the man's real name. She didn't know why, but she was tempted to just refer to him as you-know-who. "I think he's not a good wizard. When I went to get my wand all that time ago the box it was in was labeled Voldemort's war."

"And?" Bellatrix feigned disinterest even as her heart rate speed up. So she wasn't alone in noticing something was wrong with the man. "I think I might have...perished during this war that he made. I mean the box wouldn't be labeled like that if his war hadn't been of importance but it was. I don't think we should trust him. He rubs me the wrong way," Hermione rubbed her arms as goosebumps arose on them. "I don't think we should help him escape."

Both Hermione and Voldemort did not like each other. Did that mean that Hermione had been on the other side of the war? That she had tried to stop them and then Bellatrix had tortured her for it? The thoughts disgusted Bellatrix. How could she have done something like that in blind devotion to that man? Where had her logic been?

"I agree," Bellatrix said, shocking the brunette by her admittance. She got off the bed to peer out the window. All that greeted her was fields of flowers and a dying afternoon sun.

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. He's too dangerous for our operation. We can kick him out of here. He won't find us since we haven't made a pact with him. He won't be able to enter the house." Bellatrix felt conflicted even as she said this. A big part of her wanted him to stay because he seemed to know something about her past and maybe would be able to recall it. Also she felt more at ease with him here, more joyful. But she couldn't risk Hermione questioning the two's relationship and finding out that Bellatrix had committed all these terrible crimes. No, it would be best to kick him out.

Hermione nodded her head at this. She had wanted to add on what she had heard in her dreams today but surprisingly she had convinced the witch easily and would have no need to mention it. Strange...Hermione wondered how Voldemort and Bellatrix knew each other. Had they been on the same side of the war?

* * *

Voldemort meanwhile was still in the ruined remains of the room they had been fighting in. He was in awe at the level of skill it must have taken to create a whole castle out of magic. He wondered if he could do it. A vibration in his coat pocket informed him he had a message. He pulled out the special device he had been given, reminiscent of a small pocket mirror and saw a pale blue face on it.

"Did you trick them?" it asked impatiently.

"Of course I did. I'm in their safe house even as we speak."

"Good. I want you to steal their keys, and raze the place down with them still in it."

Voldemort stretched his nonexistent lips into a smile. "It will be done." And then as after thought he added, "Right now." Closing his mirror he crept in search of the two women.


	11. Betray me Once, Shame on me, Betray me twice, Shame on You Know Who

* * *

_You want to believe that there's one relationship in life that's beyond betrayal. A relationship that's beyond that kind of hurt. And there isn't- Caleb Carr_

* * *

Bellatrix and Hermione made their way downstairs, ready to accost Voldemort and throw him out of their castle. He was a danger to their operation and they couldn't risk having him here. They found him downstairs in the living room, walking towards them with purpose. "Bellatrix, I was a tad worried when you rushed off like that on me. Is everything alright?"

"It's quite fine. But I'll have to ask you to step out of the castle for a moment. Me and Hermione need to discuss something, privately." Hermione had told Bellatrix it would be better to not tell the man they were throwing him out because then it could lead to problems. And if they asked him to step out for a bit then it would work as all they needed was him gone and Bellatrix had assured that then she could change the location of the castle and he would no longer be able to find it.

Voldemort cocked his head at this, no discernible trace of emotion or of his thoughts on his face.  _Is he going to buy it?_  Hermione thought. She and Bellatrix tried to remain as outwardly calm as possible so as not to tip him off.

"You want me to step out? Have I done something to offend you?" He asked at last when he couldn't read their faces, twirling his wand in his hand and pacing slowly in front of them.

"Of course not," Bella hastened to explain. "We simply need to do something that requires you to vacate the vicinity. But you are free to come back as soon as we are done."

Voldemort was not convinced. "Have I done something to make you distrust me?"

He hit the nail on the head and Bellatrix winced at this. She still felt torn on helping her friend. She felt like she had known him for forever and she did not want to lose him again. She cast a look back at Hermione who shrugged. This was not going as easily planned as they had hoped. Would they have to cast a Confundus spell on him to make him leave?

"Well then it's very good that you do not trust me." He stopped pacing and reached in under his robes, pulling out two keys.

"The keys!" Hermione gasped out, her hand coming to her mouth. He had stolen them! But how had he found them? "Give those back!"

She made to reach for the wand she kept in her pants pocket only for Voldemort to raise his, stilling her motions. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he ordered.

"And I wouldn't do that if I were you  _either_ ," Bellatrix said calmly, her wand aimed at his head. "Hand over the keys now."

"I think not. These keys are what you have been fighting for, and I am going to return them back to their rightful owners. Now put your wand down before I blast Hermione into tiny bits."

"You can try, but as soon as I see a single spell word leave your mouth I will crucio you so hard you will be begging for my forgiveness," Bellatrix spat, hoping she sounded more fierce than she felt. She had dueled with Voldemort and knew he was a power to reckon with. Would having Hermione on her side help even things out? She highly doubted that.

"Ah, crucio. Now there's a nice spell. Thank you for reminding me of it," Voldemort smiled, his mouth stretching painfully thin across his face.

Shit, and now they had given him ammunition for a truly terrifying spell.

But how had he known about the keys? Was he working with the judges? Hermione knew that Bellatrix hadn't told him about the power of the keys.

"You're working for the judges! They sent you here to trick us and to get the keys! It was all a set up, us rescuing you from those guards. A ploy for you to get into our stronghold," Hermione pointed out.

"How astute of you. Sadly you weren't able to figure this out beforehand. And I'm not here just for the keys, but to kill you as well!"

With that everything went to shit.

" _Stupefy! Bombarda_!" The first spell was aimed at Hermione who was awaiting it. She dove to the side, pulling out her wand as she rolled onto her feet and shot a flurry of spells at him. The second spell was aimed at Bellatrix who merely moved her head to the right to avoid it before she fired off spells of her own.

The room dissolved into complete chaos in mere seconds and Hermione had a hard time telling what was going on, over the sound of spells shattering and blowing things up, and over the smoke and dust raised by magic being flung back and forth. Hermione took cover behind one of the couches as she saw Bellatrix and Voldemort duel. The witch was powerful when Hermione had to to duel against her but now that she was dueling Voldemort, Hermione saw the disparity between the two. Voldemort was even better than Bellatrix and his spells were gradually pushing her back, her cheeks and arms cut up from spells that had hit her and Hermione could see how exhausted the witch looked despite the battle waging on for seconds. He was pouring all his skill into the fight and Bellatrix was doing her best to keep up with it. What he had shown her in the training room was merely a taste of his true potential.

Hermione wanted to help but she knew she stood even less of a chance of defeating Voldemort than Bellatrix did, so she had to do something to aid her from the sidelines. First, she would get the keys.

With a small flick of her wand she whispered out, " _accio_  keys," hoping the keys would come to her. They did, floating gently through the battling waves of magic. They were almost to her when Voldemort noticed them and reached out a hand to grab them. Bellatrix let out a snarl and reached for them too, the two of them drawing close in proximity. Voldemort noted this and shot a spell at her. Instead of dodging it and ending up further away from the keys, the dark haired witch decided to go straight in the path of it.

 _You stupid witch!_  Hermione groaned to herself and with another flick of her wand she knocked the bolt of red light out of the way. Bellatrix grasped the keys, a grin on her face, before she twirled around Voldemort and his wand hand and aimed a curse at his back. He was flung off of his feet and straight into the hearth that was blazing strongly. His screams rang in Hermione's ears so loudly that she almost missed what Bellatrix was saying to her. "We've got the keys. Let's go!" She waved her hand at her, urging her here, eyes cautiously on Voldemort who had stumbled out of the fireplace and was trying to extinguish the flames eating his face by running around.

Hermione took one last look at him and left the safety of behind the couch. The two girls opened up their front door and as a precaution Bellatrix set one last additional spell. " _Fiendfyre_!" Green flames burst from her wand tip and immediately began to consume the entirety of the castle. Then she slammed the door shut and conjured up two masks for them to wear. They were cheap imitations but better than nothing when going out into the hotel.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked.

"Now we run and hide and hope they don't find us," was the answer. They emerged from behind the statue of the man with wings only to run right into the third judge. His skin wasn't blue like it had been in the glass artwork Hermione had seen and he was missing his wings but there was no mistaking the sharp features and the pair of spectacles on his face. The girls paused upon seeing him, fingers curling around their wands and ready to fling spells at them. "I guess that plan didn't work out so well," Hermione grumbled under her breath, her heart rate increasing as she tried not to panic. This was bad. Very bad.

The third judge stood in front of them, quietly contemplating them. He had several black clad staff members next to him and when Hermione blinked she found the staff members were now in a circle around the girls. Their faces were impassive, eyes blank just like the third judges. "How lucky for me that you've run straight into me, carrying the two missing keys with you. Voldemort has done his job well. More than I can say for those two buffoons who call themselves judges." He took a step closer to them and they took a step back, Bellatrix holding onto the keys tighter.

Could they make it back into the castle? Would the judge be able to follow them? At this rate they looked to have a better chance of survival in fighting Voldemort.

"Come now. Hand over the keys and I won't hurt you. Too badly, that is." The man stretched out his hand waiting patiently.

"We'll never hand them over! We'll never succumb to you!"

"Brave words for someone who doesn't have many options left to them. The keys, now." He wiggled his fingers in a come-hither position, his voice apathetic.

"You'll never get them from me!" Bellatrix spat again, curling her hand protectively over the keys in her hold.

"Fine then. Hermione, would you be so kind as to give me the keys?" The judge turned to her and she gave a little start. Did he honestly expect her to give him the keys?

"She's not going to give you the keys either. How stupid are you to think that just by asking us nicely we will revert all the hard work and effort we have done into getting these keys?"

"It is you who is the stupid one," the judge snarled, surprising the both of them with the volume of his voice. "You honestly think you are welcome where you are going, Bellatrix?" This wasn't the first time the dark haired witch had heard this. And after the little court stint she finally knew why, but that wouldn't dissuade her from still trying.

"I don't care about that. I'm still going to go!"

"Stubborn and selfish as always. No regards to others safety or to their feelings. No respect for what is right." The judge shook his head sadly, his voice now back in the usual monotone. "Hermione, I will speak to you as you are the most sensible of the two. I cannot have the two of you escape from this place. Your time in the world as you know it, while cut tragically short, is over and you must give up the desire to rejoin it. If you do not then terrible things will happen. Stay here, where you belong. Bellatrix is a dangerous witch, one that has caused much strife and sorrow to those who you held close and cherished, Hermione. She hurt you too. Surely the things you heard and saw at the trial tipped you off to that much."

Hermione swallowed deeply at this, her skin beginning to prick uneasily. She knew, she had an inkling, no, more than an inkling of an idea of the true nature of Bellatrix's past. After all it was why the witch wore black. It was the color of evil, of those meant to be sent to hell. And given the context the judges addressed the dark haired witch by, it wasn't hard to believe and prove correct. Still Hermione had tried to look past that, to ignore it. The witch wasn't acting evil at all to her, she was different. Perhaps she had been forced to do evil. A victim of circumstance?

The judge noting Hermione's silence let out a sigh. It seemed like she hadn't been aware of this despite all the clues left to her to decipher. "We do not have all day here, but I will imbue you with some memories of the past you so impatiently sought to remember, in hopes you will see I speak the truth." He took his glasses off and began to clean them on his robes and as he did Hermione's mind slipped into her past.

She was in a vast and dimly lit room, an arch in the middle of it. Several clouds of dark smoke flew around her, crackling in evil delight before they reformed into human shapes. Beams of magic flared brightly in the space, illuminating the revolving figures there. It was crawling with witches and wizards. All were shouting, all were screaming. Hermione was standing outside all this, hovering in the air. No one could see her but she could see all, having a bird's eye view of everything. And in the flux of fighters she caught a glimpse of her own brown hair.

What was the point of this memory? Was it even a memory of hers? Or was the judge playing around with her?

She heard a wild cackle and then the shout of " _avada kedavra_!" A green bolt of light struck a man in the chest and he fell through the arch, disappearing completely. Hermione tried to trace where the bolt had come from but by then the scene was already spinning out of her control and she was somewhere else. This time she wasn't floating separate from the memory but lying on a cold hard floor. Her vision was blurry and she could hear voices muttering around her. She tried to sit up but a prompt jab with a wand to her throat made her lie back down.

"Where's the sword?" the owner of the wand asked and Hermione instantly recognized the voice. It was Bellatrix's, and as her vision cleared she saw the dark haired witch kneeling in front of her. Her eyes were crazed and her hair in thick knots around her head. "Where's the sword? Did you take it?" She cocked her head to her side, impatience burning in her eyes and Hermione's own scared reflection gazing back at her.

"I don't have it. I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione heard herself say.

"You hear that?" Bellatrix tossed over her shoulder to the other people in the room. They all wore black and their faces were grim and devoid of warmth. They were dangerous and they scared Hermione, but not as much as the witch in front of her. Because this witch was the one who was going to hurt her, she was sure of it. "The wittle mud baby says she doesn't know where it is. But you do know, you mudblood," her voice turned into a snarl as she focused on Hermione again, and she dug the wand deeper, making it harder for Hermione to swallow. "And you are going to tell me." The statement gave a sense of finality to it; a woman used to getting her way, used to coercing others to her wills and whims. She stood up at this, her haughty eyes never leaving the trembling brunette on the floor.

Hermione tried one last time to futilely convince the other that the lie was true, knowing full well what was going to occur if she failed. "I said I don't know-"

" _Crucio!_ "

Hermione let out a scream as her entire body was filled with pain. It was like every muscle in her body had cramped up, tightly woven and pulsating and buzzing like a hive of bees. Her body moved of its own accord, spasming in reaction to the spell. She twisted and turned on the floor, spittle flying from her mouth. Her hands clawed at the floor and she begged for release-for it to be over. Her vision grew shaky and the breath choked in her lungs. After what seemed like an eternity, the pain subsided and she let out gasping breaths as she tried to regain oxygen into her lungs.

"Now, I'm going to ask once more and nicely at that," Bellatrix sang, her face wide in satisfaction of the pain she was inflicting. "Where is the sword?"

"I-don't-know-" Hermione panted out, not even able to finish her statement because the older witch cut her lies off.

" _Crucio!_ " Again Hermione was sent into a state of gut wrenching pain. She could even barely think, barely breathe, it hurt so much.

And this memory continued in this way, Hermione feeling everything that was being dealt to her memory self to her real self as well. She wanted this memory to be over already. It was so terrifying. Why was the witch acting this way? Why? What was going on? What sword was she looking for that would drive her to such measures?

Hermione lost track of the number of crucio's she had incurred, her body by now a twitching mess on the floor. "It seems the mud baby still won't answer my questions," Bella snarled, upset by her inability to get Hermione to speak. She traded her wand for a knife she pulled from her pocket and held out Hermione's arm, the smooth and pale underside staring up invitingly. "Maybe a little tattoo would get you to open up. How about the word 'mudblood'?" Then with a wild cackle she got to work, the tip of the knife plunging in. Both Hermione in the memory and the current one let out a pleading howl of "no!" But it didn't stop the other witch who only grinned merrily, as if she was carving up a pumpkin and not a human.

Hermione was thankfully pulled free from that memory before the second letter could be ingrained and swept into another one. In this one she was hovering in the air again and she couldn't be more grateful. She was in no way ready to deal with anymore physical pain. And there was no physical pain, but emotional pain this time. She could see herself kneeling next to a small grave on a grassy hillside, holding the corpse of Dobby. She felt tears stream down her face. She had loved that little elf so much. But why had he died? Two boys were standing next to her, faces as equally drawn and pensive as hers. One had black hair and glasses and the other a shock of red hair that made his pale skin paler.

"Bellatrix killed him. Just like she killed my uncle!" The black haired boy-Harry, Hermione recalled his name with a shock- let out bitterly. So that man in the first vision had been Harry's uncle. Now it made more sense why Hermione had been shown that. But it didn't take away the pain in her heart. Bellatrix had been evil. She had killed others, tortured Hermione and killed her friends. Why had she done this?

The memory slowly began to fade, until Hermione was back in the present world. Tears were streaming down her face and she had collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. How long had she been gone? How long had she been crying? Her body ached as if she had actually been tortured right now and the scar on her arm burned fiercely.

"Hermione. Hermione, are you okay?" Bellatrix's voice asked. She made to move to the witch but the brunette shuffled back from her reflexively, afraid. The memories were still raw in her flesh and bones. Bellatrix looked confused by this action, hurt, and turned her anger out on the judge. "What did you do to her?"

The judge tsked. "Not what did I do, but what  _you_  did."

"What are you blabbing about you old coot?"

"I showed her the memories from her past. Those concerning you. Would you like to see them too?"

Bellatrix was tempted. Having her old memories would clear up a lot of things but she didn't trust the judge. "I bet their not even real memories. You just showed her something false that made me look bad." She was worried about what was going to happen. Would Hermione turn on her now? Would she fight Bella for the keys? What did she do now? She needed Hermione's help on this quest, to finish it. She couldn't do it alone. She wet her lips, her body tensed in case she had to make a quick decision. Or the worst decision.

The judge ignored her, turning back to Hermione who was still on the floor, although her crying had calmed down a bit and she was taking big gulps of air to regain composure. "So now do you see what I mean when I say you must give up on your quest? She is dangerous. And has no right to go back into your world." This was true, but Hermione didn't want to believe it. Surely there was good in those who were still evil. All they needed was a chance to show it.  _Does Bella deserve that chance?_ Her subconscious asked. Bottling away the emotions brought to her by the vivid memories, and pushing away her doubts, she made her decision.

Hermione got up to her feet slowly, wiping away her tears with the ends of her sleeves. "I already knew this. I knew all..this," she said, her speech wavering as she tried to get her vocal cords back under control. "I knew she did terrible things to me and to others...but I think..I think she can change. That everyone deserves a second chance at doing good."

"You foolish girl! You want her to come back to life then and kill all your loved ones again? She cannot be trusted! Was being tortured at her hand not enough proof of this?"

Hermione merely smiled at this. "Ah, so the keys do bring us back to life. You were right on that, Bellatrix." Hermione smiled at the dark haired witch, who was looking extremely unsure right now. She wanted to ask Hermione so many questions about what she had seen in her memories, about why she was forgiving her even though she had broken the promise to be truthful to her, broken probably way more than that.

The judge let out an angry tsk at letting that tidbit of information slip. "Fine then. As it seems you will not hand over the keys peacefully, we will take it by force."

The two witches were expecting this. "Now Bella!" Hermione shouted out and the dark witch needed no more prompting. The two girls aimed spells at the feet of the hotel workers. Roots sprouted out from the floor, wrapping around them and trapping them in place. Then they shifted their wands over to the third judge's face and he was flung backwards before he could take more than two steps towards them.

"Looks like the fighting has started before I could start it," a voice came from behind the two girls and they turned to see Voldemort had come from the castle. His clothes were burned and he had scorch marks up and down his arms. If his face was burned badly it was hard to tell because he was wearing his mask. He sent a spell flying at them and Bella pushed Hermione to the side as she dove out of the way in the opposite direction. Bella was quicker to recover to her feet and was engaging the man in battle already, their wands blurs. Hermione who had not expected to be pushed roughly had a harder time getting to her feet.

The staff members were still stuck to the floor, trying to tear the roots out with their hands but the plant would only grow back and thicker. One of them was struck by Voldemort's spell and erupted into flames. Hermione ducked a hand reaching for her before she stepped away from where she had fallen near some members. They were not a problem for now. A quick glance told her the judge was still knocked out but how long would the stupefy spell work on him? If he was powerful then not long. She had to help Bella defeat Voldemort and then they had to run away.

An indignant cry from the dark haired witch shifted Hermione's attention to the fact that Voldemort was trying to accio the keys away. Already they had ripped free from Bella's grip and were floating closer to him. She was trying to get them back but a barrage of spells that had her spinning on her feet to dodge them was keeping her away. She tripped over a carpet and fell to the floor, a break in the casting of spells occurring momentarily.

" _Accio_  keys!" Hermione shouted out and the keys moved towards her before stopping. Voldemort had noticed her little spell and was pulling the keys back with his own magic. The keys zoomed further away from Hermione and she grit her teeth before pulling her wand back in an effort to get the keys flying towards her once more. It was like a game of tug of war except with no rope.

Lucky for her, Voldemort couldn't concentrate with his accio spell because Bella had recovered and was demanding his attention again. She flung curses at him and he was forced to drop the spell in favor of more offensive ones. The keys, with no other force holding them back, came freely to Hermione and she held onto them for now. She stuffed them into her pants pocket and turned to check if Gabriel, the third judge was still knocked out. He wasn't, now slowly getting to his feet and rubbing his forehead. She wasn't going to let him get away without getting the third key. She was sure another chance like this wouldn't arise. She approached him, wand at the ready and forcing forwards all the courage in her body so that she could pull this off successfully.

"This hallway is getting a bit crowded. How about we head out somewhere more private?" Then she opened up a portal in the wall next to his staggering and still not at full consciousness form and pulled him in.

* * *

Bella barely noticed Hermione was gone. Although to be fair she was currently dueling for her life against her friend from her past. "It doesn't have to be like this," Voldemort admitted.

"What doesn't?" she grunted out as she barely deflected his spell. It redirected towards a staff member, knocking them out cold. They had left the circle and were moving down the hall, in need for more space to duke it out.

"This. We could be on the same side. You could work with me again Bellatrix." His words were like honey and the way he addressed her so familiarly made her want to drop her wand and cease this fighting all at once but she didn't. She fought that urge. She knew he was the man who had caused her to be evil. There was no way she was going back to that no matter how much the thought of hurting others pleased her.

"I'm not working with you. I want my freedom. I want to live again. What would working with Gabriel even lead to? There is no way he is going to let you out of this prison hell hole. You should have worked with us, because only we hold the keys to getting out of here."

Voldemort let out a laugh here, one that sent tingles down her spine. She took this chance to aim five spells at a row at him but he merely swatted them aside before pinning her with one of his own. She had left herself open in order to cast her spells and now she had a gash down her side to pay for her lack of defense. She grit her teeth as a hiss of pain threatened to escape her lips. Now she was severely impaired on her left side and could no longer cast spells as efficiently. Why had she been so stupid and tried that? But she was getting desperate to win and desperation bred ugly traits in those it affected. And additionally, she had to find Hermione. She had no clue what the girl was up to or if the judge had captured her. Hermione did have the keys so Bella couldn't let the brunette fall into any evil hands.

 _As if your hands aren't the evil ones,_  snarled her subconscious to her.  _Think she's safer with you? She probably ditched you the first chance she got. And took the keys with her._

 _Shut up!_  Bellatrix shot back.

"You really think I would hand the keys over to Gabriel?" Voldemort poised the question as he caused the carpet under Bella's feet to lift up and unbalance her. She fell to her bottom and tried to get back up, her side throbbing in pain from her still bleeding gash. But Voldemort wouldn't let her up to her feet and forced her back down with some spells. She sat where she was, panting heavily and hurt and bruised all over. Her hair was a mess, she was breathing heavily and blood dripped into her eye from a gash over her eyebrow. She still held onto her wand, fingers in a death grip on it as Voldemort approached her.

"I knew the keys were important, and I knew you were important since they wanted to get rid of you so badly. So I decided I would pretend to work for Gabriel and then I would turn my back on him and work with you on getting free from this place. I'm not an imbecile. I know that he would probably toss me aside after he had used my help. I know there wasn't any hope for me except for joining up with you. So please, Bellatrix, like old time's sake, join me and help me get out of here." He held out a hand to her, bending over slightly so that she could reach up more easily. He held his wand hand up in a silent show of peace offering.

Bella wet her lips, unsure what to do or say. Two sides battled in her; the one who wanted to team up with her old friend again and the one that said he was a bad influence on her and that she should avoid him. "I'll even forgive you for hurting me back there like you did. Those green flames of yours are quite nasty."

"What-what about Hermione?" She was stalling for time with that question and she knew it, but her mind and heart were still torn in two on what she should choose and she needed more time to think.

Voldemort's eyes flashed darkly at the mention of the brunette's name. "Leave her behind. We do not need her. She will only hinder our plans. She has probably betrayed you as it is."

His words struck a chord with what Bella herself thought and she swallowed deeply. Should she-? Her hand seemed to have a mind of its own and it slowly rose up to touch his when a loud crack made them both look back. A handsome man with green eyes and chin length hair stood next to them, dressed in gold and cream colored clothes. It was Dorian, the first judge. "Hate to break up this wonderful reunion but I need her," he pointed at Bella who was still on the floor. Then he pointed to Voldemort. "You can go after Hermione. She's doing something I highly disapprove of right now and someone needs to stop her." With a snap of fingers from both hands they were all gone.

* * *

Dust scattered in the air and Hermione had to resist the urge to sneeze as she ran through the clouds she had raised in her latest bid to escape the third judges notice. By some miracle or another she had managed to secure the third key, a shoddy little thing that was made of plain silver. Gabriel was less than pleased by this and his disapproval rang openly through the air as he flew above her head in the giant warehouse they were situated in. He was shouting obscenities at her, at the same time he was flinging razor sharp feathers down at her. She was doing her best to dodge the projectiles and to get to a smooth wall so that she could open up a portal but he seemed to have guessed how her portal skills operated and was making sure to keep her away from any and all walls.

She couldn't keep dodging these feathers for long. She had to find a way out of here and soon. If he caught her now it would be all over. He would get his hands on all three keys, reverting all their hard work into nothing. She couldn't let that happen.

She ducked under one of the many rows of shelves in this place, feathers sticking into the metal with loud pings. "Hermione I demand you get out here and give me back the keys or I will sentence you to eternal damnation for your crimes!" Gabriel's skin had turned blue in his ire and giant white wings sprouted from his back, casting a huge shadow as he flew by. They would have been nice to look at at any other situation than this.

"There is no way I am handing back these keys to you. You yourself said my time had been cut short in my world. I will be going back. My friends need me. I can hear them calling to me in my dreams." By glimpsing those memories that had been locked away from her she was able to identify the voices to their faces. She was certain one of them belonged to Harry. Harry was one of her closet friends. Thinking about him made her chest feel warm. He had been there when Dobby died, and she had a feeling she had faced more with him too.

"You are more foolish than I believed you to be. Your time is done. There is no such thing as coming back to life," Gabriel insisted and hovered over the aisle in which Hermione was hiding under the giant shelf, packed away behind some boxes. She peeked out from behind it and was rewarded by a series of feathers which she avoided by the skin of her teeth. He was not letting her out of his sight. She needed a plan and quick to distract him.

"Well then I guess I will be the first witch to do such a thing." With an idea in her head, she ducked out from under the shelf into full view of the judge. She knew she couldn't knock him out of the sky-she had already tried and failed multiple times with only feather wounds to show for it-but she could hit something else. " _Confrigo!_ " The place she had hidden in burst into flames, erupting and sending material flying every which way. Gabriel was forced back by the extent and intensity of the flames. Hermione took his momentary lapse in motion to run half the length of the warehouse. But he was on her soon and she knew she wasn't going to get to the wall in front of her before he caught up to her. She turned back and sent another spell from her wand tip. " _Fiendfyre!_ " A snake of pure green fire was flung outwards and onto Gabriel. It latched onto his wing and tore him down from the sky. His screams were the last thing Hermione heard as she made it to the wall and with gasping breath, opened up a portal.

She moved from one portal to another, not stopping for too long in fear that someone would catch up to her or try to stop her. She wasn't looking for a safe space, but for the door, the one she knew would lead her out of here. She had visited it with Bella a couple days back, or had it been weeks? She didn't know when they had first discovered it but Hermione was sure it had to be the door the keys worked for. There were three locks on it of differing sizes.

The brunette went through so many portals she lost track. Where had the door last been? She knew it had to be somewhere close by. She could taste the need to reach this door, so strong was her urge to get to it. She was so close she couldn't fail now. She was going to live again-she was certain of it. She flicked her wand another time, her wrist sore from how many times she had motioned with the object. At last the place she was looking for arrived in front of her and she stepped out of the portal, relief fresh on her face.

She was on the roof of the hotel, the sky darkening above her, clouds chasing across the sky in a never-ending race. The door was there, buzzing with soft energy. It was a massive thing, attached to nothing and leading to nothing, complete with pillars on either side of it that crawled with ivy. Everything was made of dark marble with gold veins running across it. The keys in her pants pocket grew warm, as if reacting and sensing the door in front of them. Hermione approached it slowly, as if the door was a beast and she had to be cautious or else it would run away. She let her hands trace over the smooth and warm marble-it felt like it was alive. Pulsating like a heartbeat.

This was it. She was going to live. Her hands were shaking with excitement and barely contained nerves as she took the first key out of her pocket-the gold one- and slide it into the appropriate lock. There was a click as she twisted it. There was no question this was the right door. She licked her dry lips and pulled the second key out. Her hand was less sure as she put this one inside the lock, her insides coiling with guilt. What was she doing? She was leaving Bellatrix behind.

_But she doesn't deserve to come back. She's evil. You heard the judges. She's only going to go to hell. She's only going to hurt your friends again if she comes back. Do you want that? Do you?_

Hermione shook away the malicious voice in her head. S _he helped me. She may have done bad things in the past but she won't do them anymore. She wants to change. I know it._

_And how do you know that? How can you be so sure? Did she tell you herself that she would be good? Just like she told you the truth on herself?_

The brunette twisted up her lips at this. Bella hadn't told Hermione the truth about her past, this much was true. But Hermione wanted to think the best of the other, to think the best of other people in general.

Yet her hand turned the second key and the lock sprang open with a click. Her hand reached for the third key and she placed it in the correct slot too. Her hands were sweating now and she took a deep breath. Was she really going to do this?

_No. Bella doesn't deserve to be betrayed._

_Remember what she did to you?_ Flashes of pain, of blood, of a knife digging into flesh ran in Hermione's mind and she grit her teeth.

_No. I will be the better person. No matter how much I hate what she did to me. If she is evil then I will go out of my way to prove that I am not like her._

With a great show of willpower, Hermione stepped back from the door, leaving the final key unturned. Her knees were shaking with the weight of the decision she had just made.

"What a shame. You didn't turn the last key. I was looking forward to seeing what happens." Hermione turned around on those words, her skin crawling. Voldemort was approaching her, a gleam in his eye. "Perhaps I shall turn it?" His question was more of a suggestion and Hermione knew that no matter what she couldn't let him past the door. How was he even here? Was Bella okay? Would Hermione be able to hold him off?

She raised her wand but she was too slow. Already he had muttered a spell and sent her flying sideways. She went up, three, five feet in the air before she collided harshly with the ground, her wand skittering away from her grip. Her jaw connected with the ground first, then her knee, followed by her elbow as she tried to protect her body somehow. Bright lights shot up in her vision and she nearly damn bit her tongue off as her mouth snapped open and then shut from the force. She could feel warm blood trickle down her chin where she had no doubt split it. But she couldn't focus on the pain right now. She had to stop Voldemort. She couldn't allow him to come back to life! That would be a disaster waiting to unfold.

She tried to get up, her knee wobbling pitifully beneath her weight and scanned with panicked eyes to where her wand had fallen. It was a couple of inches away from her and she pounced on it, lifting it up to eye level. "Staph," she cried out, her jaw not working properly right now.

"Thanks for the help Hermione. You've made my job so much easier." Voldemort was at the door and with a swift click, the final lock had been unlocked. Immense light flooded from the doors as they opened inwards.

"NO!" Hermione howled out. "Shhupefy!" She tried to yell out the name of the stunning spell but she couldn't pronounce it correctly. And as she hobbled forwards in horror in a desperate bid to catch him and stop him physically, he took his time as he walked into the light. His whole body was consumed by it and he raised his hands in delight as the light sucked him up. With one maniac laugh he was gone, the light was gone and the door slammed closed with a loud bang.

"No...no..." she whispered to herself. What had she just done? She had let a maniac free...let him ascend back to life...

She patted at the door, but it wouldn't budge open. And the worst part was that the keys were gone. Vanished into thin air. She banged on the doors with both fists now, screaming out. "Open you blasted doors! Open!" She felt tears pressing at the backs of her eyes. Now what was she to do?

Voldemort had escaped and she was still stuck here.


	12. A Dance to Remember

* * *

_Masquerade! Paper faces on parade_  
Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you  
Masquerade! Every face a different shade  
Masquerade! Look around, there's another mask behind you

 _Flash of mauve, splash of puce_  
Fool and king, ghoul and goose  
Green and black, queen and priest  
Trace of rouge, face of beast, faces

 _Take your turn, take a ride_  
On the merry-go-round in an inhuman race  
Eye of gold, true is false  
Who is who?

 _Curl of lip, swirl of gown_  
Ace of hearts, face of clown, faces  
Drink it in, drink it up till you've drowned  
In the light, in the sound but who can name the face?

 _Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds_  
Masquerade! Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you  
Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads  
Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you

 _Masquerade! Seething shadows breathing lies_  
Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you  
Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes  
Masquerade! Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you

 _What a night! What a crowd!_  
Makes you glad  
Makes you proud  
All the crème, de la crème

 _Watching us, watching them_  
All our fears are in the past  
Three months of relief  
Of delight, of Elysian peace

_**-Phantom of the Opera** _

* * *

"Where the fuck are you Bellatrix?" Hermione growled, her concern for the other's safety turning into anger at being unable to find her. She was wandering around the maze that was the hotel, long ago having given up on remaining hidden from the judges. She was overwhelmed with the strong desire to find the black haired witch and to right the wrong of having let Voldemort escape.

The hotel hallways were empty and dim, lights flickering ominously. She had cast a lumos to provide a steady source of light for herself from her wand tip as she traveled the halls, itching to find her fellow witch. She had also cast epiksey to heal her bruises, so that now she could cast her spells properly. If only she had thought to cast it before than maybe she could have stopped Voldemort from escaping- _no there's no use in thinking that now,_  Hermione scolded herself.  _Regret will get me nowhere. But if I can get Bella then she might be able to do something about it. She knows this place better than me. And besides, this is payback for trying to leave without her. I knew I shouldn't have attempted to do so in the first place._

A loud crack interrupted her thought process and she jumped, not expecting to hear it in the deathly silence of the hotel. Dorian stood in front of her and she took up a defensive stance, ready to burn him into oblivion-unless he could actually help her with the situation she had caused. That was a wild thought. "Dorian," she said warily, keeping her eyes trained on him, but paying mind to the space around her. He could have his minions show up behind her back and try to harm her.

"Hermione. I have to say you've made quite a mess of things." There was amusement in his voice.

So he knew. "Yea. I know. You don't have to rub it in."

"Well, it isn't entirely your fault. I sent Voldemort to stop you. I should have known better than to trust him. He is a snake just like me. And I know Bella goaded you into doing such things in the first place. The foolish quest for the keys...the foolish attempt to revolt against us." Dorian let out a rich chuckle, his eyes sparkling in the dark. "I don't think we've meet such a pair of troublemakers as you two in quite a long time. But speaking of Bella and of trouble, the witch is in quite a perilous position."

"What did you do to her?" Hermione spat, impatient to get to the point of this conversation.

Dorian put up his hands as if offended by the idea. "Me? Hurt a lady?" He put his hands to his chest in a fake pout. "I thought you knew me better than that. I don't hurt ladies."

"Only sleep with them and use them for their bodies."

"Sounding bitter, are we? Maybe if you had let me sleep with you in the first place then your outlook of this whole hotel would have been different. I think we could have enjoyed our time here together."

"Stay back," Hermione warned as the judge took a step closer to her. Her wand rose higher up to accentuate her threat.

"I told you I don't hurt ladies. But," at this he conjured out of thin air a golden goblet with purple grapes in it. He pulled one off and popped it into his mouth. "Other things might cause them harm. For example, Bella right now is under a certain charm, you could call it. She's at a ball of mine and she is having a grand old time. Great music, great food, even better alcohol and the ladies," at this Dorian smacked his lips together in an air kiss. "Delightful."

The brunette felt disgust rise at this. How had she ever been able to kiss him for the mission before? He was disgusting.

"However, this charm needs to be broken so that she can revert to her old self. As it is, if the charm remains in place then she will continue to be under the control of it and dance away into oblivion. If you wish to save her you must stop her before the bell chimes 12."

"And how do I stop her?"

"Have the last dance Hermione. Or I will." With an minacious wink he was gone, replaced by eleven strong and ominous chimes of a bell. The rings vibrated up and down the hall. It meant that Hermione only had an hour to rescue Bella, wherever she was. And what the fuck did he mean by last dance? That wasn't a clue at all!

* * *

Bella was floating in a world of bliss. Everything was so bright and just right. Her body felt weightless and she wanted to move it around, to share her joy and experience with others. They simply needed to feel the way she did. She wanted to talk to others, to drink with them, and to dance with them. As it was she was in a small room, dancing around in it to the faint sound of music that drifted through the thick cedar door.

A loud crack paused her dance and she turned heavily lidded eyes onto Dorian. He looked stunning in his clothes, the gold in it sticking out to Bella. His face was a blur but she couldn't care to figure out why. She danced over to him, collapsing in his strong arms. Her body felt too wired to stand still and when it had to she needed the support of someone else to hold her up, her knees weak. "You've come back. Can I go to your party now? I so desire to dance," she crooned, hands sliding up to his neck.

"Of course you may. And I have your outfit prepared for you." He gestured to the bed where a dark black dress lay. It glimmered with dark inlaid jewels and gold and red battled in swirls up its length.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, coming up to it and letting her hands run all over it. Each sensation of her hand passing on the silk of the material or on the bump of the gem was heightened to her and she loved the feel of it. "Can I wear it?"

"Be my guest," Dorian responded and without another word Bellatrix tore off her current clothing and put on her new dress. The dress was floor length, strapless, with a plunging neckline, and with long black gloves that came up to her elbows. Dorian conjured up a standing mirror for her to inspect her reflection in and she did so greedily. "I look nice," she murmured to herself dreamily. Dorian came behind her and wrapped a choker with dark jewels that draped down from it around her neck.

"No, you look ravishing," Dorian corrected. "Now sit so I may do your hair." A seat appeared behind her and she sat down without question as to how it came here.

"Am I going to have fun this evening?" Bellatrix asked as Dorian ran a comb through her hair.

"Oh, you are," he promised darkly. "And I am going to have mine as well. You see you've been giving me a bit of trouble for a while now." His brush strokes got more aggressive with each word, the witch's head jerking back. His tone of voice rose and turned into a snarl. "And so I'm going to play a little game with you and your little brown haired friend. And when it's over, then the real punishments will start and you will bare the brunt of my anger." He pulled back so hard on that statement that Bella's head snapped back and a cry of pain left her lips. She was left to look up directly at Dorian's face and if she could see it she would note the malice in his eyes, the curl to his lips and the red of his skin. But she didn't notice any of this. The pain of his hair pulling subsided and all too quickly she forgot about his anger and was back in her oblivious world.

"Make my hair pretty," she insisted, smiling at herself in the mirror.

"Of course," Dorian said pleasantly, his temper tampered for the time being.

* * *

Hermione went to the only dance hall she knew of- the one she had gone to when she had tried to get the first key back. She hoped it was the right place because she had no clue as where to go else. Outfitted in a white ball gown and a mask with swan feathers attached to it, she entered the hall, the loud music pounding in her ears. It was just like she remembered last time, except everything was made from dark marble on this occasion with red banners decorating the ceiling and pillars. A sea of people was on the dance floor but strangely they weren't dancing. They were talking and laughing loudly with one another.

Hermione decided not to waste more time thinking about this.  _Bella wears black. I just have to find a person whose wearing black and then what? Free her from the charm? But how?_

"Ah, so the guest of honor has arrived." Dorian's voice rang out through the dance hall and everyone's eyes swiveled towards Hermione who froze at the front of the hall, next to the stairs she had climbed the last time to get closer to the judge. The first judge was standing on top of the same stairs, his outfit a black tux with a single red rose in its lapel. "And now we can finally begin the dance! Orchestra, start the song!"

There was a loud screech as a violin ripped out a high pitched note in answer to his demand. Without missing a beat a hush fell over the dancers as they got into formation, their outfits darkening magically in color until they all wore black.  _Well there goes that plan,_  Hermione thought grumpily.  _Now_  how would she tell who was Bellatrix? They all wore masks too, and she knew she wouldn't be able to take them off to check because if she did then it would kill them.

The dancers began to spin around, following a choreography that Hermione was not privy to. "Go on. Join them. You won't find your friend if you don't," Dorian encouraged, his voice booming over the music. Swallowing deeply, Hermione gathered up the ruffles of her floor length dress and decided to dive into the dancers. As soon as she joined, a man came from nowhere and grabbed her by the hand and began to spin around. She struggled to find the rhythm, her heels crashing down on his toes several times. He gave no indication if it hurt or not but she still apologized. She craned her neck around in search of a familiar face but everything was lost in a sea of black.  _Where is she?_  Was Bella even here? What if Dorian had lied about all this and it was simply a trap meant to draw Hermione in?  _Merlin's right nut sack this is so frustrating! I can't find her like this._

She tore her hands away from the man's grip and took to the center of the dance floor which was free from dancing couples. They all moved in twirling pairs around her, the women's long gowns spiraling around them wonderfully. "Bella! Bella!" Hermione cried out, her voice barely heard over the beat of the drum. "Bellatrix! Where are you!" Hermione span left and right with the dancers, trying to see, hoping to find her. Was there a spell that could help Hermione? If there was she couldn't think of it.

"Hurry Hermione. The clock is ticking," Dorian warned and with a quick look to the clock face on the wall over the stairs the brunette noted she had half an hour to find the witch. "How about we speed things up to incentivize you?" With a flash he was now in front of the orchestra pit, waving a conductor's baton. The pace of the music speed up as did the time on the wall. Where the minute hand had inched forwards before now it ran.

"No!" Hermione cried out, panicked. The dancers broke their circle and now they were dancing towards her. "No!" She cried again as they jostled into her, pushing her this way and that. She had to watch out for swinging elbows and for dancing feet as the people pressed against her making it hard to breathe, or to think, the music burrowing into her head and giving her a headache. "Bella! Where are you?!"

* * *

After Dorian had done Bella's hair and makeup he had given her a mask. The mask was onyx black, so dark that it sucked up all the light around it. Dark horns protruded from its forehead and as she ran her fingers over it she felt a shiver go down her spine. This mask was terrifying yet she didn't want to offend Dorian by not wearing it so she put it on and with a quick appreciative twirl in the mirror she had gone to the dance hall to munch on snacks and gossip with the people there. She talked to various people, drifting from one group to another, never able to see their faces. But it bothered her not and she was able to have a good time. She only wished to dance however, her feet tapping impatiently for the moment to arise.

"Ah, so the guest of honor has arrived." Dorian's voice drew her away from her conversation with a fellow girl and she eagerly sought his figure out. He was standing on the stairs, clad in black. "And now we can finally begin the dance! Orchestra, start the song!" Those words lit her body up with joy and she took to the floor, forgoing her drink and friends. She only wanted to dance!

She let herself gravitate to the arms of some guy and soon they were off, gliding across the floor. She let her eyes close as she felt the rhythm of the music overtake her. She felt it in her flesh, in her very blood and bones; an intoxicating melody that overcame her senses. It felt like she was dancing for hours, and for only minutes and she opened her eyes when she heard someone shout her name. Had she heard correctly or was she just mistaken? There it was, her name again. Who could be calling her? It wasn't Dorian, the voice too feminine for him.

"How about we speed things up to incentivize you?" The music speed up to the horrified cry of refusal from the same person who had been calling Bella's name. The dark haired witch frowned, concerned what could be causing pain to the other but soon lost her train of thought as she increased her pace to keep up with her partner. The dancers began to move across the floor and the women all began to change partners. Bella was throw into the arms of another man and than another man, journeying past others as the mad dance increased. Adrenaline thrummed in her veins and she let out a wild cackle of glee. She could just dance like this forever!

* * *

Hermione's heart leapt two stories when she heard that cackle. It was none other than Bella's! And it had come from her left. The brunette hastened to move towards that direction, but a pair of dancers blocked her.

"You must dance, Hermione. Dance again!"

 _Shut up Dorian,_  Hermione wanted to growl out.  _This is no time for dancing._

"Dance, or her last dance will be with me!"

Sniffing angrily and with determination in her veins, Hermione took to dance again. This time she fell into the beat more naturally. Clasping her partner's hand and one hand on his shoulder as his free hand held onto her waist and steered her, she kept her eyes trained on the direction from which she had heard Bella's laugh. There was a dark haired witch there, but was it her? The woman's mouth opened up in laugh once more and Hermione's heart soared in relief. It was her! Now she just had to get to her.

When the partner's were exchanged Hermione let herself drift in the direction of Bella. This she did two more times, each time getting closer and closer but not close enough yet. She could feel time running out and it worried her a lot. Everything was a flurry around her, black blurring into black. She couldn't tell where one person ended and the other began.

"Hurry Hermione, the song's about to end!"

Hermione grit her teeth and exchanged partners once more, this time ending up right next to Bella. Now if only she could dance with her next. Dorian kept telling Hermione to dance, so she guessed the only way to break the charm would be to dance with the older witch. Impatiently Hermione waited for the switch to occur and when it did, she grabbed Bella's wrist without a second of hesitation, not letting her go off with another man to dance. The music slowed down at this, changing to something more melodic and heartfelt, the volume of it subduing as well.

"Well hello there," Bellatrix smiled drowsily at her, her voice lazy and catlike. "You are not a man."

"Certainly I hope not," Hermione chuckled, relieved breath rushing from her lips. She had made it. She was dancing with Bellatrix. But what now? Would the magic lift? She could clearly tell Bella was under the influence of something, her actions very docile.

And she looked different too. Her lips were stained dark and her mask, paired with her ball gown, made her looks devilish in the dark light of the dance hall. Like a succubus come to dance among humans and spirit them away.

"But I think I do not mind," was the dark haired witch's soft answer as she pulled them closer roughly. Hermione let out a choked cough, nearly stumbling in her next step at this motion.

"I feel like I've met you before," the older witch admitted as they slowly danced across the floor. The other dancers fell into place around them, mimicking their movements. The dark haired witch removed her hands from Hermione's own and began to move them in a gentle but complicated manner. The brunette followed suit, albeit clumsy at first. The moves were sort of swanlike and graceful. Their palms weren't allowed to touch or for their fingers to intertwine. Instead it was more like brushing and sliding ones arms against the other before twirling their bodies around and rejoining, never separating for more than a few seconds.

"You have met me before. We've known each other for a while. So how about you and I leave and talk about how we know each other," Hermione suggested in a soft tone.  _Somewhere preferably away from here._  For some reason she felt compelled to whispering.

"And miss this wonderful music and dancing?" Bellatrix laughed, her eyes closing briefly in merriment. "Nonsense." They danced like this for a while, Bellatrix insistent on finishing the song. Hermione began to feel a bit awkward. She wanted to leave, aware that the judge was probably watching them. Now that the intense urge to save Bellatrix was gone she remembered where she was and that was in a dance hall, dancing in front of others. No doubt she looked like a fool. She wasn't the best of dancers.

And what made her really squirm was the intensity of the gaze of the older witch on her. Her dark orbs followed Hermione's face throughout the whole dance. It made the room stifling to say the least. She had never looked at the brunette in this manner before, heavily lidded eyes and almost dreamlike appearance. Hermione tried to avoid her eyes whenever she could but found she couldn't resist. She had to look back no matter how much the gaze made her burn inside.

 _She's the one who hurt you,_ she chided herself but couldn't quell the weird feeling that was filling her limbs. She wanted to drown in those eyes and the music that was playing only intensified the emotions raging in her chest. The music crawled under her skin and if by some magic force her dancing improved. Soon the two girls were adding new moves to their dance that were more complicated and that which drew them ever closer to one another, their faces hovering near. The music slowed down and they at last held out the flats of their palms in front of themselves. They pressed gloved palm to naked palm and then let their fingers intertwine. Without breaking eye contact they raised their hands up high slowly, drawing their bodies as close as they had ever been during the dance so far.

Chest pressed against chest. Hermione's ragged breaths rattled in her ribcage as her heart beat an erratic rhythm and it wasn't only because of how much dancing she had just done. She could feel Bellatrix's own heartbeat echoed in hers, the witch as well exhausted by the elaborate dance they had conducted. And maybe from something more as well..?

Hermione's and Bellatrix's gazes were both draw to their left hands as they lowered them gently to their sides. Then they looked on as they moved their right hands down in unison as well. Hermione felt as if her world had darkened, had shrunk so that all she could see was the older witch in front of her. Hands both lowered, they both let go as the music dwindled slowly to an end yet they did not move away. Hermione's eyes were drawn to the older witch's lips. The two of their breaths intermingled and millimeter by millimeter their mouths hovered closer.

Everyone else in the dance hall had vacated the dance floor, leaving them the only ones on it, not that they noticed. They were lost under the trance of a spell, a spell they could only feel. The lights had dimmed in the place, the spotlight falling on them. It made the jewels on Bellatrix's earrings and on her neck sparkle, causing light to bounce off of them and to strike the dark around the beam of light. They were stuck in the light, it acting as their sanctuary.

The two of their lips were so close now that Hermione could practically taste the kiss that was about to happen. A last minute thought occurred to her sluggish brain, pulling her sharply back.  _Stop it. This isn't the Bellatrix you know. This is weird!  
_

The sharp motion of Hermione moving back caused Bellatrix to snap out of whatever spell she had been under and just like that cold harsh reality came swooping in. The warm rush the brunette had felt during the dance, and the weird feelings in her chest, had dissipated and left her burning with shame at her actions. She had almost kissed the other! The same witch who had hurt her!

People began clapping and Hermione realized they had gravitated to the middle of the dance floor, everyone else to the sides and watching them. She felt her face flush red.

"Hermione? What the devil is going on here?" Bellatrix asked, coming out of her stupor. She looked around, surprised to see the place she was in. It seemed she had no recollection of what she had done the past few minutes. "Wasn't I just fighting Voldemort?"

"It's a long story," Hermione explained, trying to push away the thoughts of how close the two of them had come to kissing out of her mind. Not like that was hard at all. Nope, not at all! "But we need to leave and now." She was already looking for a way out, hand reaching for the older witch's to pull her along.

"Leaving so soon? And after the wonderful evening I gave you both?" Dorian parted the crowd, his hands clasped in front of him.

"You-" Bellatrix reached for her wand only to realize that it was nowhere on her.

"I have to say I loved the dance. Very pleasing. And how romantic. Hermione rushing to save the love of her life from the handsome demon of a man who has trapped her in a magic spell."

"Romantic?" Hermione blustered out, her face growing red once more. So the weird feeling she had had was supposed to be _love?_

"Where's my wand Dorian? And where's Voldemort?" Bellatrix didn't spare a second on Dorian's nonsense.

"I don't think you'll be getting the answers to that anytime soon. I wanted to give you guys a nice little evening before I subjected you both to such horrors and tortures such that you could never imagine. It'll make you wish you had gone to hell Bellatrix when you did."

"Sorry to interrupt but now is not the time." With two loud cracks, the remaining judges appeared next to Dorian, Ibraham on his left and Gabriel on his right.

"What do you mean?" Dorian asked the blue judge, confused by their sudden appearance in his domain.

"One, you do not make the absolute decisions for us, two, I also would like to have them punished in my own manner and three, there are other things we must discuss so unfortunately the torturing will have to wait." Gabriel stuck up a finger for each point he made.

"What do you mean?" Dorian was still confused, but now he was getting angry.

"This means that we are leaving your delightful party here and they are coming with us to the Chambers." Ibraham joyfully explained.

 _The Chambers? Those don't sound pleasant at all._ Hermione shuddered. _  
_

"Oh great," Dorian muttered and with a snap of both fingers on his hands he and the girls disappeared. Gabriel disappeared as well. Only Ibraham remained and he made his way past the dancers who had already gone back to dancing, to a buffet table. He licked his lips as he greedily took in the sight of a giant roasted ham on the table. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation and licking his thick lips, he stretched a hand out to grab it when Gabriel popped up on the other side of the table, scaring the fat judge.

"Are you coming or not?" He asked nasally and Ibraham mumbled out a quick sorry, casting the ham a sad gaze before he too disappeared. Gabriel shook his head. "Children. Both of them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So technically I wrote two dance scenes. The first one is meant to be chaotic, with a sense of urgency as time is running out to save Bella. Hermione has to dance with her but the dancers are getting in her way, making it harder to reach Bella and thus pissing Hermione off. A song that conveys this sense of pandemonium and importance is Masquerade suite waltz from War and Peace. Whenever I listen to it I can just imagine dancers twirling around in crazed rhythm until they drop dead. For the second dance, it was supposed to be more private and romantic. A song that conveys the emotions I was trying to get at is Love Story from the movie soundtrack Love Story. It's really a beautiful piece. You can just feel the passion in it, and the raw emotional out-pour from the composer.
> 
> The moves of the second dance were also based on a dance from an Anna Karenina waltz scene. When it watched it I was simply amazed by how much tension between the characters the director was able to get, and by how intense the feelings the characters felt were. To get a better sense of what the two girl's dance was supposed to look like watch the video. It can be found on youtube easily. As can the songs I mentioned previously.


End file.
